For Every Action
by Concrete Angel
Summary: What if Bulma was ready to give everything to Yamcha, and he destroyed her with betrayal? This is a three year gap story about how our favourite Saiyan prince is left to pick up the pieces when Bulma falls apart. How will Vegeta manage to cope with this new Bulma, and bring her back to the woman he knows? A dark story. Rated for language, violent themes and sprigs of lemon.
1. Chapter 1 - Love and Loss

A/N: Hello all! This is my first crack at a DBZ fanfiction! I chose to be a bit safe and do a three year gap story. This story will get rather dark, and rather intense in later chapters, so please be prepared. I hope this is an acceptable return to fanfiction (haven't written in 8 years!). This first chapter has a bit of a songfic feel to it, but it's definitely not a common theme for this story. I just used it to add a bit of context to the chapter. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall Z, and all lyrics presented in this fanfic belong to their respective artists.**

Songs used: Pitbull - Give Me Everything; Cobra Starship - Good Girls Go Bad; Ke$ha - Die Young; Jason Derulo - In My Head; Sara Evans - Tonight

For your information:

"..." regular speech

'...' thoughts

_"..."_ sung song lyrics

_/.../_ regular song lyrics

**For Every Action**

**Chapter 1 - Love and Loss  
**

Bulma strode across the Capsule Corp compound in the direction of the most surly houseguest planet Earth had ever seen. Though she usually made a point to not interrupt Vegeta while he was training, today was different. Today was special. She rapped her dainty knuckles on the door to the Gravity Room and waited for the prince to open. She was not at all surprised to recognize a well-defined scowl on his face when he finally opened the door. He opened his mouth to berate her for her intrusion into his training time, but when he saw the look in her eyes and the smile on her face, he paused.

"I know you hate when I bother you, Vegeta," She said, smirking slightly, "It's just that I wanted to let you know that the Capsule Corporation is hosting a charity event for a local children's hospital this evening. There will be lots of people, which I know you don't really like, but there's a ton of special foods and good music and I think it would be nice if you showed up, at least for a little while." Bulma blurted out the final part of her speech so fast that anyone else may have a hard time following. Vegeta frowned even harder and crossed his arms over his chest.

"That sounds absolutely ridiculous, woman. I will attend no such event. Now leave me in peace." Vegeta said, his tone betraying the irritation he felt, whilst his face did not.

Bulma sighed heavily and placed her hand on his forearm and looked up at him. Vegeta felt a stirring in his stomach and dismissed it to his discomfort with her touch. He quickly stepped back, leaving her hand hanging in midair.

"Come on, you train day in and day out! Just relax for one night, have a little fun. Please, Vegeta?" Bulma whined, pulling her hand back to rest over her heart.

Her toned surprised him immensely, she was usually quick, sharp and vicious with her words. Begging, Vegeta thought, did not suit her at all. It made him ponder about the importance of this party, and he wondered why it would be different than any other event. He decided the only way to know, would be to attend. Even though his curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to attend just to see what could cause such a change of demeanour in his _gracious_ host, he would not let her win so easily.

"And why exactly would I want to honour a horde of humans with my presence?" He pressed, smirking at her.

Bulma scoffed and Vegeta finally saw her eyes become lit with the fire he craved. Wait, what? He craved no such thing, and threw away the thought as quickly as it came.

"You arrogant jerk! It's for sick kids! What more reason do you need?!" She screeched at him.

"Well if you humans weren't so damn obsessed with saving the life of every sick weakling, child or not, we wouldn't be having this conversation. It's no wonder the inhabitants of this mudball are so weak, you mess with nature!" Vegeta replied, eyeing Bulma intensely. The quick retaliation he was expecting from her did not come, instead, her eyes got watery and she let out a squeaking sound that he could only assume was a suppressed sob.

'Oh no,' he thought 'Anything but this crap.' But his thoughts were useless, and suddenly hot tears streamed down Bulma's face. He felt another stirring in his stomach, though very different from the first. He could only repress the voice in his mind that told him it was guilt. Bulma turned away from him, ashamed at her sudden show of emotions. How had he managed to ruin such a wonderful day?

"I apologize for interrupting you. You'll be happy to know I'm currently working on an update for the gravity capacity for you. I should be finished by next week. Have a nice evening. Alone. Jackass." Bulma stopped speaking as she felt her temper flare again. She had promised she wouldn't get angry today, that she would keep this part of herself in check. She walked away, and didn't look back.

Vegeta sighed. Living with this woman had been a trying experience for him. Especially of late. She was constantly impressing him with new training equipment and now she was working on something new for the GR without him even asking for it. He was starting to look forward to a ruthless verbal spar with her, and even caught himself admiring her body when she work on fixing his GR. It was too much. Too confusing. So he buried himself in training, the aching of his muscles at the end of the day enough to put him straight to sleep, into the world of dreams where he could escape the blue-haired banshee. But he wondered how long that would last. How long until she infiltrated herself into his subconscious as well?

Having already decided to attend this evening's party, he stepped out of his GR and made his way to his room to take a long shower.

* * *

Bulma took a deep breath and fell into the cushy chair of her antique, white vanity. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and then reopened them. She applied a small amount of mascara, a touch of pink lip gloss and fluffed her hair. She grabbed her keys, chucked her cell phone into her purse and quickly made her way downstairs. She grabbed a small apple from a basket on the kitchen island, rushed outside to pop her preferred capsule car and sped off towards one of her favourite places in the whole city. After all, she mustn't be late.

* * *

When Vegeta felt he was clean, he shut off the shower, stepped out onto a soft, fluffy bathroom rug and proceeded to dry himself off with a quick blast of ki.

His personal bathroom at Capsule Corp was one of the luxuries he secretly adored. There were no time or temperature restrictions. Most of all, there wasn't any prying, treacherous aliens trying to murder him in a small moment of vulnerability. It was bliss.

Without bothering to cover himself up, Vegeta left the bathroom and headed for his rarely, if never, used walk-in closet. He had seen Dr. Briefs and his wife attend similar functions and therefore had a vague idea of what attire would be appropriate. He also knew Mrs. Briefs had stocked his closet with Earthling clothing for all occasions. He noticed a few black bags on hangers in the farthest part of closet. He unzipped the bag and was satisfied when he found precisely what he was looking for. It was a crisp, black, 3 piece suit. He quickly re-zipped the bag, took it out of the closet and tossed the entirety on the bed. He saw the array of ties that had been chosen for him, but decided against it, as he didn't want something that looked so tight and uncomfortable wrapped around his neck. He then began a search for some reasonable footwear. He was surprised to find nearly all the shoes he was provided with were boots. At least the footwear would be familiar to him. He grabbed a pair of the shinier, black ones and tossed them casually on the floor next to the bed. Now satisfied that he wouldn't look like a complete moron at the party, he threw on some boxers and jeans and headed downstairs for something to eat.

To his dismay, Mrs. Briefs wasn't bustling around the kitchen preparing his lunch as she did most every day. He walked to the refrigerator to attempt to make himself something that would, hopefully, turn out to be edible. To his great relief, there seemed to be container upon container filled with food stacked on top of each other, all ready for him to eat, in the fridge. He had come to know that these leftovers could be heated quickly in a small, noisy box and he found himself quietly thankful that Mrs. Briefs had thought of him.

He ate quickly and noiselessly. He was stunned with himself as he realized he had left a handful of containers of food untouched. He assumed his lack of appetite was due to his promised dinner of delicacies later that evening. What other reason could someone have for not being hungry before a big party with lots of people they don't know?

A quick glance at the clock made him realize that he had no idea what time he should arrive at said party. He didn't even know where in the compound it would be held. He searched for Bulma's ki to go ask her, but frowned when he realized she had left without him noticing.

Well damn. He was going to have to ask the blond woman.

Vegeta shuddered.

He quickly located her ki signature and found it to be on a side of the compound he had yet to visit. He swiftly made his way to her, and was baffled when he found her in a beautiful, enormous ballroom. Vegeta may have liked the place, if he didn't feel like it reminded him of his now nonexistent palace.

"Servant woman!" he hollered in Mrs. Briefs' general direction.

"Oh! Vegeta! I left your lunch in the fridge! Did you need more food? Or perhaps something refreshing to drink?" she called back to him.

"No. The food was fine. I want to know at which time your function beings." He said, looking quite intently at a pillar to his right.

Bunny Briefs was quick to guess that Bulma and invited her handsome houseguest to the party. Deciding to ponder her daughter's action (and Vegeta's reaction) later, she told him:

"Guests are expected to start arriving around 7 pm. Bulma is planning to make her arrival around 7:30. Any time between then would be perfect." Vegeta nodded. He turned and left without another word, silently relieved the conversation with the creepy blond was over.

Figuring he had quite some time before he actually had to be seen again, Vegeta made his way back to his bedroom. He dropped gracefully to the floor at the foot of his bed and slipped into meditation for the remainder of the afternoon.

* * *

Bulma walked up to the front door, her freshly pressed and cleaned dress draped over her arm in a protective plastic bag. She darted up the stairs to her bedroom, closed and locked the door. No interruptions, she thought, if she wanted to look perfect. A small voice in the back of her head reminded her that Saiyans were impervious to locks, and that locking the door wouldn't keep _him_ out. She sighed, hoped he would leave her alone. Just for tonight.

She pondered the reason for the party as she shifted through her mounds of eye shadows. Though her parents were in fact donating a large sum of money to the children's hospital, and trying to convince their business partners to do the same, Mrs. Briefs was known for playing matchmaker with her daughter, and Bulma suspected that this evening was actually an occasion for Yamcha to see her all dolled up. A smile crept onto her face when she thought of what his reaction would be when he saw her tonight. She wondered if tonight finally presented the opportunity for Yamcha to claim her, would he finally propose to her? It was a perfect setting. Letting all the Capsule Corp employees and business partners know she was finally off the market. Many of them had sons who tried to pursue her, or had even tried to pursue her themselves. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she wondered how she would react, and what the ring would look like.

She had truly picked the ideal dress for the occasion. It was an empire-waist, royal blue, floor length, chiffon gown. The slight sweetheart neckline was lined many small diamonds, as was the waistline. The dressed flowed softly away from her bust and made her feel like she was floating. A final detail, a small, elegant cap sleeve that rested on the peak of her shoulder. It was perfect.

She decided on a dark, sultry eye shadow and a nearly neutral, pink lip gloss. She grabbed a pair of white, strappy, high-heeled sandals to complete her look and got to work on making herself perfect for Yamcha.

* * *

Vegeta quite enjoyed his afternoon. When he had enough of meditation, he allowed himself a long nap. It was exactly 7pm when he woke. He started to get changed for the party. The suit fit perfectly. And that was extremely uncomfortable to him. The pants caused him no trouble, but the jacket was ridiculously restrictive, in terms of arm movements. He decided to abandon it and simply leave the black vest over a crimson red shirt, which he had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows and left two buttons open at his neck. He put on his boots and laced them tightly. Overall, he was pleased with his look and marched over to the Capsule Corporation Grand Ballroom.

When he arrived, at 7:12, he was shocked to see the room fully decorated. Small, round tables filled nearly the whole room, covered in elegant linens with fine china and candles on the surface. The ceiling seemed lower as large bands of sheer fabric flowed from various points in the room to finally join together in the perfect middle of room, linked by a magnificent crystal chandelier. Additionally, he noted that the room was already filled with chattering people in suits and gowns, and that various food smells floated pleasantly across the room. He felt his mouth water and made his way to the largest buffet table he had ever seen.

Vegeta discovered that piggies in a blanket (what a bizarre name – he thought), California rolls, bacon wrapped scallops and French brie on vegetable flavoured crackers were the most amazing things he had ever tasted. Bruschetta on garlic bread and spinach dip on a warm pita were close seconds. Finally, he realized he detested olives and refused to get anywhere near the deviled eggs. Bulma had been right about the food. He tried everything once, and took multiple plates of his favourites. If he hadn't been busy currently shoving as many scallops in his mouth he could without losing any, he would have noticed the crowed became very hushed as the clock reached 7:30...

"Oh!" he heard from across the room. He swallowed and turned to see what could have caused Mrs. Briefs to suddenly exclaim.

But it wasn't what. It was who. His jaw went slack.

It was Bulma. And Vegeta swore he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

* * *

Bulma smiled softly and went to greet her parents, who were standing by the bar.

"My goodness darling! You look stunning." her father cooed at her.

"Thank you Daddy." She leaned in to peck her father on the cheek.

Bulma went over to hug her mother and whispered in her ear: "Is he here yet?"

Bunny's smile momentarily faltered.

"Not yet, but I'm sure he'll be here any moment, darling." She whispered back. Bulma's surprise at Yamcha's lateness was quickly replaced by anger as she pulled away from her mother.

"I'm going to go present the check now, okay Daddy?" Bulma said, while gritting her teeth. He nodded at her and rubbed her shoulder in a very paternal fashion. She calmed down, put her best business smile on and went over to the small stage where a band was playing.

* * *

Vegeta's eyes followed the slow movements of Bulma's body as she walked to the stage. She start to prattle on about Capsule Corporation and sick brats, but all he could see was her lips moving, his ears didn't even process the sounds she was making. He willed his eyes to stay focused on her face, but his body rebelled and his eyes began to roam. First he noticed she changed her hair. It was back to being flowing and shiny, and in his opinion, how it was supposed to be. It settled just above her shoulders, and she had it styled in gentle waves, with a small, jewel encrusted barrette retaining a small portion of her hair just above her ear and it framed her face beautifully. His eyes followed her jaw line down to her neck, over her shoulder and...

The crowd applauded loudly, and Bulma left the stage. Vegeta blinked and instantly grew aggravated with himself for admiring the beautiful woman he lived with. He took one last scallop, shoved it in his mouth and walked over to the darkest corner of the room. He leaned on the wall, crossed his arms and glared at everyone in the room. He began to ruminate on his sudden lack of control, and decided it would never happen again.

* * *

Bulma walked off the stage and smiled politely at everyone she passed on her way to the bar.

"One glass of my merlot, please." She asked the bartender. Her voice was calm, but she was absolutely livid. Where the hell was Yamcha? She took her glass of wine and began making the rounds, doing what she does best: using her looks and feminine charm to influence weak-willed men.

After about two hours, and three more glasses of wine, Bulma's rage was replaced with worry. Yamcha was well aware of how important this event was to her. He wouldn't just ditch her, she was certain of it. So something must have happened to him. She checked repeatedly with her security personnel if Yamcha had perhaps arrived without her knowledge. They were starting to pity the clearly distressed heiress.

Bunny was very aware of the growing anxiety that her daughter was exhibiting, so she made her way over to the buffet table in search of the Saiyan prince.

"Vegeta?" She called when she didn't see him. She jumped when he stepped out of the shadows to her left. He stared intensely at her, silently demanding to know why she was looking for him.

"Bulma is upset because Yamcha isn't here yet. Do you think you could go talk to her? She's starting to scare off the guests!" Mrs. Briefs pleaded to him.

Vegeta scowled at her, then he considered her words. So the scar-faced loser was supposed to be present, but never showed. How deliciously tragic.

"Fine." He responded, refusing to miss an opportunity to remind the woman of her atrociously poor choice of mate.

"Oh thank you, Vegeta!" Bunny said, smiling brightly at him. "And may I add, you look absolutely dashing tonight!" She giggled and made her way back to her husband, complimenting everyone she met on the way.

As Vegeta started to make his way over to the bar, where Bulma was now sipping on something pink in a triangular shaped glass, he noticed that the band was packing up. They were swiftly replaced by a young disk jockey. The lighting changed dramatically and a thumping noise started to come out of the speakers. He growled slightly, the sound hurting his sensitive ears. People started to conglomerate in the area in front of the DJ and started to dance. That's when Vegeta realized that Bulma wasn't the only vulgar woman on Earth. Far from it, in fact.

He sat on the bar stool next to her. He turned to look at her when she didn't respond to his sudden appearance. Her face was flushed pink and her eyes had a glassy quality to them. She was undeniably drunk.

"Woman." He said sternly, announcing his presence. Bulma visibly jumped at the harsh sound.

"Vegeta? What the hell are you doing here?" she said angrily, her small hand tightening around her glass.

"You invited me here, stupid woman." He replied.

Her demeanour changed instantly as she realized he was right and at least _someone _she had invited had shown up. She smiled at him, but failed to notice the slight blush that appeared on his face when she did so.

"Have you ever had alcohol, Vegeta?" she asked, curious of the effects of alcohol on Saiyans, since Goku never got near the stuff.

"Occasionally. Most alcohol we had was anything left over from purges. And if there were any large amounts, they were brought to Frieza." Vegeta answered. He then wondered why he chose to divulge so much information to her. A simple "yes" or "no" would have sufficed...

"Well then!" she exclaimed "Bartender, two shots of my favourite tequila with lemon and salt, please good sir!" The bartender chuckled at her and reached under the bar to retrieve Bulma's private liquor.

"What is tequila?" Vegeta asked as the bartender placed a shot glass filled with liquor in front of himself and Bulma, also placing a salt shaker between them.

"It's my favourite liquor. It's warm and makes me feel so very _right_." Bulma mused, her eyes glazing over.

"Hn."

"Okay, now do what I do." Bulma licked the outside of her hand between her thumb and index finger and covered the wet area in salt. Vegeta stared at her incredulously. He searched her facial features to find any hint that she was trying to make a fool of him, When he found none, he imitated her.

"Alright so now we lick the salt off, then take the shot, and as soon as you're done, bite the lemon okay?" Bulma instructed with excitement in her voice. She was going to do a shot with the Prince of all Saiyans, himself!

Vegeta nodded and took the tiny glass between his fingers and looked and Bulma.

"One, two, three!" she practically yelled.

Lick. Gulp. Bite. Dear Kami.

Bulma giggled hysterically as she watched Vegeta's facial expressions change while he experienced his first shot of tequila.

The combination of strong flavours quickly overwhelmed the prince's mouth. Though it was intense, it wasn't unpleasant. The initial shock wore off, and Vegeta felt the liquid warm his mouth, throat and stomach. Bulma waited anxiously for the prince's evaluation of her beloved golden substance. He smirked handsomely and a mischievous flamed danced in his eyes.

"Another." He demanded. Bulma squealed with joy. Vegeta flinched and covered his ears.

"You heard him! Two more!" Bulma shouted at the bartender.

Bulma and Vegeta sat at the bar for another hour. Bulma got two more shots, before the bartender cut her off. Vegeta got in eight more. Bulma chatted aimlessly to him about her childhood. How she hated sports, loved strawberry ice cream and there was a small spark on the outskirts of West City that she thought was magical in the winter. He listened intently to everything she said, never interrupting, absorbing all that she wanted to share with him. He was jolted out of his trance when she squealed midsentence.

"Seriously, that chick was the biggest bitch I've ever met – OH MY KAMI Vegeta. I _love _this soooong." She stood up, grabbed his hand, looked into his eyes and said:

"Dance with me."

"What?!" But he couldn't get in another word before he let himself get tugged to the dance floor by the blue haired siren. The man she had been ready to marry, long gone from her mind.

She started to dance in front of him, and when he just stood there awkwardly, she laughed. She turned around, placed his hands on her hips and pressed her behind firmly against his pelvis. His eyes darted around the room and he relaxed when he saw most the women in the room were acting similarly. Bulma moved quickly with the music, and he relished the feel of her pressed so tightly against him. He took no notice to the words of the song. That is until Bulma to sing along.

"_Grab somebody sexy, and tell them Hey! Give me everything tonight. Give me everything tonight. Give me everything tonight. Give me everything tonight. Give me everything tonight. "_

His grip tightened on her hips at the sweet sounds, and she threw her arms up to interlock her hands behind his neck, giving the best view of her breast he ever had. Figuring he would never see them so much ever again, he let himself stare.

"_Excuse me, I might drink a little more than I should tonight. And I might take you home with me, if I could tonight. And, baby, Imma make you feel so good, tonight. Cause we might not get tomorrow."_

They danced song after song, both of them quickly losing track of time. Bulma would occasionally sing along to a few choice lyrics, and Vegeta felt like they were being burned into his memory.

"_I know your type. Boy you're dangerous. Yeah you're that guy I'd be stupid to trust. But just one night couldn't be so wrong. You make me want to lose control."_

"_So while you're here in my arms, let's make the most of the night, like we're gonna die young."_

"_In my head, I see you all over me. In my head, you fulfill my fantasy. You'll be screaming out. In my head, it's going down."_

But he lost it when she smirked devilishly at him and stalked off to request a song.

"My song is up next." She whispered into his ear when she returned, and the arousal he was doing a fair job at hiding made itself known. She nibbled on his earlobe and waited for her song to start. To say Vegeta was stunned by the lyrics was an understatement.

"_They don't understand you. You're from a whole 'nother world. A different dimension. You open my eyes. And I'm ready to go, lead me into the light. Kiss me, kiss me. Infect me with your love and fill me with your poison. Take me, take me. Wanna be a victim. Ready for abduction._

Boy, you're an alien. Your touch so foreign. It's supernatural. Extraterrestrial."

It took every ounce of practiced self-control for him not to pounce on her and ravage her on this very dance floor. Her body was perfectly molded to his, their bodies were hot and sweaty, they practically had one foot in the bed already... Then the music stopped, and no new song started up. The DJ announced that he was about to play the last song of the evening, and it was a ballad.

Vegeta panicked. Ballads were for couples. Surely, she wouldn't make him dance with her, would she? He got his answer when she faced him and without hesitation wrapped her hands around his neck and leaned her head on his chest. When the song began, Bulma started moving them in a slow, circular motion. It was he that noticed lyrics this time.

_/If I had a weakness  
You sure found it tonight  
Some hidden desperation  
You saw floatin' in my eyes _

_And I don't know what's wrong baby  
And I sure don't know what's right/_

His arms were wrapped tightly around her small frame, and for a moment he imagined that he would never have to let her go. And that was alright.

_/Lonely woman, lonely man  
There's just some things only lonely understands/_

"You look beautiful tonight." He was surprised to hear himself say.

She looked up at him. Their eyes connected, and his head lowered slightly. He leaned in to kiss her. But he never got the chance, as Bulma smiled and passed out in his arms.

He chuckled when guests around him gasped. He gently picked her up bridal style and headed back to the living quarters of the compound to put her to bed. He blushed as he passed the Briefs, and nodded his goodnight to them. Mrs. Briefs smiled largely and Dr. Briefs looked very pensive.

When he arrived at Bulma's room, he set her down on the bed, removed her shoes, and then stared at her sleeping body. Her hair was everywhere, and he found that he could not fight the urge to reach out and touch it. It was so soft it made his finger tips tingle. Just as he was about to pull away, a tiny hand shot out and grabbed his shirt. He froze. He looked over to her face to find she was still slumbering. He mentally sighed in relief. When he tried to pry her hand from him, it only tightened. He didn't particularly feel like breaking her fingers, so he did the only thing his semi-drunken brain could come up with. He kicked off his boots and climbed into bed with her. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he could feel sleep licking at his consciousness. The closeness of their bodies forced Bulma's scent to flood his sensitive nose. She smelled of wildflowers, and there was a hint of something spicy that he couldn't quite place. He stayed awake long enough to see Bulma curl into him, her tiny hand still gripping his shirt for dear life. Vegeta smiled and welcomed the darkness.

* * *

SMACK

Bulma winced as her hand hit the wall.

Her bed wasn't against a wall...

Oh Kami, who's bed was she in?

She peeked through her eyelashes, not wanting to cause too much noise. She was surprised to recognize her own bedroom. Confused, she sat up slowly, her head suddenly reminding her that she had a bit too much to drink last night. She turned her head to see what exactly she had hit her hand against. She gasped and scrambled out of bed when she realized the mass she had mistaken for a wall was actually a sleeping Saiyan prince.

She forced herself to recall the previous night, but she could only get snippets. Not enough to reconstruct her trajectory to her bedroom. She did a quick body check. She was still dressed, minus her shoes. Her barrette was still in her hair. She rubbed her eyes, her makeup was still caked on. She wasn't sore in places that would indicate she had been intimate with Vegeta. But she worried, nonetheless.

She looked over to him. His face seemed softened, though it still carried a slight scowl. He was also still dressed, and looked like his suit wasn't even slightly wrinkled, except a certain small, crinkled part of his shirt, right over his heart. She wanted to wake him up and demand what he was doing in her bed, but decided against it when she realized that if Vegeta was with her, that meant that Yamcha had never shown up last night. She felt her heart get tight with anxiety. She ran into her bathroom, stripped and took the fastest shower she had taken since high school. She stepped back into her room, towel wrapped around her body, to find the prince still snoozing. She dressed quickly in a simple pair of skinny jeans, a baby pink t-shirt, ran downstairs and swiftly left the Capsule Corporation.

She drove rather hysterically to arrive at the condo she had purchased for Yamcha. She parked around the corner, and walked towards Yamcha's favourite deli.

'Maybe he's sick,' she pondered 'I'm sure a couple sandwiches will cheer him up.'

She ordered the food, paid the older gentleman who owned the sandwich shop and walked the last block to Yamcha's place.

The condo Yamcha had chosen was in a high rise building, had an apartment-like layout and had a beautiful east-facing view. She made her way over to the elevators and waited impatiently for it to arrive, tapping her foot on the ground. When it finally arrived, she entered and slammed her finger on the number 8. The ride up seemed agonizing, she needed to know what her boyfriend could be so ailed with that he couldn't even move to call her.

She walked up to unit 814, inserted her key and turned the lock.

Perhaps if she hadn't had her earbuds in or if she hadn't rustled the paper bag that Yamcha's sandwiches were in, she would have heard strange noises coming from her beloved's bedroom. She walked down the hallway to his room, opened the door and her heart exploded.

Yamcha lay completely nude on his large bed, his face contorted in pleasure, for a tall, young woman with gorgeous blond curls was currently straddling him, her hands behind her, supporting her weight and giving him a perfect view of her ample breast, among other things. Her body was perfectly illuminated by the late morning sun, making her look almost angelic.

Bulma screamed.

* * *

A/N: Alrighty! So first chapter. Still getting used to the new editing system on this site, so bear with me if the formatting or page breaks are funny looking. I really hope you'll take the time to write me a quick review, so that I know if I should continue posting chapters. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2 - Sobs and Scissors

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm back with a new chapter! I need to take a small moment to thank, thoroughly thank everyone that has taken the time to review my story. It means a lot to me, I'm really so pleased with the feedback I've been getting.

I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday, I certainly did.

Now this chapter was a bit challenging for me, and it still didn't come out quite as well as I would have liked and it's rather short compared to the first one. Either way, I hope you enjoy the next instalment of **For Every Action**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z. Also, last chapter I forgot to mention that I also don't own Katy Perry's E.T.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Sobs and Scissors**

Vegeta slowly opened his eyes. Everything around him seemed strangely noisy, for when he usually awoke there wasn't anyone around to make any noise. He blinked when he realized he was lying on pink silk sheets and surrounded by a few too many pillows.

And it all came back to him.

He groaned audibly and ran his hand over his face. What was he thinking? He should have just stayed away from that damned woman and her damn party. His ears were pounding, still feeling the effects of the speakers that had blasted music at him. His head throbbed slightly, but nothing that he couldn't handle. He couldn't even express his surprise that Bulma wasn't also in her bed. Her dress was draped over the chair of her vanity and there was a wet towel on the ground. Had she succeeded in taking a shower while he lay sleeping in her bed? And why hadn't she woken him? It seemed too unreal. His senses had been so dulled by the previous evening that he didn't even wake to all that commotion. Preposterous. He glanced over at the clock and jumped out of the bed when he realized it was nearly noon. He had never slept so late in his life.

'No more tequila. Never, ever again.' He thought angrily.

He listened for anyone coming towards Bulma's room. When there wasn't anyone too nearby, he opened the door and darted to the next door down the hall, his own room. Once safely inside, he sighed. How was he ever going to be able to look at her ever again? He felt completely ashamed of his actions, which was odd for him. He decided to think it over while he showered.

Feeling he didn't deserve a hot shower, he turned on the cold water as high as it would go, producing a strong stream of freezing water. He stepped in and the cold felt like it was seeping into his bones, but he enjoyed the distraction in the form of pain. His mind was disturbed by so many thoughts, too many of them being about Bulma. He feared he was becoming infatuated with the haughty woman.

'I enjoyed myself.'

'It wasn't worth it.'

'She started it!'

'You finished it!'

'Nothing happened! We just slept next to each other.'

'But you wanted more to happen. You tried to kiss her.'

'I was caught up in the moment. I couldn't think straight.'

'Unacceptable.'

The battle raged on. He had long passed the age where he should have taken a mate, he hadn't been with a woman in a ridiculously long amount of time and it wasn't like he had sought her out, she had come to him. These were the reasons he used to justify his actions. But he was the Prince of All Saiyans and much too good for her, he reminded himself. He would never lower himself, his crown and his race to such degrading standards. She was trash under his gold-tipped boot.

In the end, he decided his actions were disgusting and that the woman must be avoided at all costs. She was becoming a distraction. His goal was bigger than himself and that blasted woman, she needed to go. He ignored the tugging feeling in his chest.

He stepped out of the shower and dried himself. He grabbed a handful of training clothing, threw on a pair of shorts and dragged the rest of them with him as he made his way to his gravity room. He opened the hatch and went to the lower deck, which had two rooms. One which held a small bathroom, the other housed a tiny cot and a storage container. He threw the clothes in the container and made his way back to the room that had the gravity controls. He had decided to sleep in the gravity room for as long as it would take him to reach Super Saiyan. He was certain he could convince Mrs. Briefs to deliver food to him. It was a perfect little set up. Confident that he would be able to avoid Bulma and do all the training he wanted, he set the gravity controls and pressed the start button. He waited for the familiar push of gravity, but it never came. The gravity simulator made a wheezing sound, and a small plume of black smoke started to form over the controls.

"You have to be fucking kidding me." Vegeta growled. "This is fan-fucking-tastic."

Now thoroughly enraged, he blasted off the door to the gravity room and stalked off to find Dr. Briefs. His frustration only grew when he realized he couldn't locate the doctor's energy signal anywhere in the compound. He went directly to the kitchen where, as expected, Mrs. Briefs was finishing up the midday meal.

"Where is your husband?" Vegeta demanded, though it sounded more like a threat.

"Hmm. Let me think. Oh yes! He's off giving a presentation at the Capsule Corporation head office in East City. He should be back in three days, darling." She replied, not even slightly fazed by Vegeta's aggressiveness.

Vegeta groaned. There was no way he would ask Bulma to fix the gravity machine, he was going to have to wait three days just to get it fixed, and then depending on the needed repairs, it could take even more days.

"Are you hungry, Vegeta? I've got lunch all ready. Do you need some aspirin maybe? I know you had a bit to drink last night." Mrs. Briefs asked him. He didn't answer, he simply sat down at his usual chair at the kitchen island. Mrs. Briefs quickly filled (over-filled) a large plate with food and placed it in front of him

"So, aspirin?" she repeated. Vegeta glared at her.

"I don't know what that is." He spat and began to eat his meal.

"Oh my! I suppose you're right. How silly of me. Well it's a pain killer. Often people who drink a lot of alcohol feel quite sick the next day, so they take aspirin to feel better. Do you have a headache, nausea, anything like that?" Though he did have a slight headache, it wasn't worth medicating for. He shook his head and continued eating with all the haste of a Saiyan and all the grace of a prince.

Satisfied with his answer, Mrs. Briefs began to hum a song and stirred some vegetables that were cooking on the stove. At this moment, Bulma burst through the front door, wailing at the top of her lungs. Vegeta felt like his skull was going to crack open. He quickly covered his ears, and was surprised to see Mrs. Briefs do the same. Bulma ran passed them and up the stairs. She slammed her bedroom door and the vibrations of the impact could be felt over the better part of this area of the compound.

"What's her problem?!" Vegeta exclaimed. Dammit her screams were usually annoying, but this was downright painful.

Mrs. Briefs face paled and her usual carefree demeanour was gone from her posture. She inhaled sharply, turned off the stove, and took off after her daughter.

* * *

Bulma rummaged through her drawers, looking for one particular item. She grew frustrated as her tears were blinding her and making her search extremely difficult. She screamed and proceeded to rip the drawers from her dresser and dump the contents on the ground. She tossed the drawers away from her, not caring when they hit the wall and caused an expanding hole. Finally, when she emptied the upper drawer of her nightstand, she found her prize.

The sewing scissors gleamed in the sunlight that was filtering through her curtains, making them look magical. And for the time being, she would believe they were. There was a knock on the door, and a small voice asked for permission to enter. She ignored it. She crawled over to her vanity, and yanked her beautiful gown down from the chair. She laid it out carefully on the floor and began to work.

She screamed once again and a new batch of even hotter tears began running down her face when she made the first cut in her dress. She cut cleanly, in no particular pattern. Snip after snip, she screamed in agony, as if she was dying alongside her gown. Why wouldn't it stop? Why wouldn't the pain go away? She began to rip the diamonds from the waist of the dress, tossing them thoughtlessly around the room. Once her fingers felt numb from all the tugging, she turned back to her scissors and began stabbing at the bust of her dress, dragging the scissors slowly across the fabric and enjoying the ripping sound. And then it was over. She looked around the room at the dismembered gown. She released a guttural scream and sobbed hysterically. The door to her bedroom burst open.

She looked up to see Vegeta standing in her threshold, her mother cowering behind him, and her fury returned. With scissors still in hand, she removed her fingers from the wholes and grasped the scissors at their base and charged. She went right for his heart. Though Vegeta was surprised by her sudden murderous assault, he made no effort to move out of the way. The tip of the scissor hit their target and even managed to break the skin. A small stream of blood trickled down his chest. As if encouraged by this, Bulma stabbed him again. And again. And again. And again. Finally, Vegeta had enough and grabbed her wrist before she could get in another shot. She looked at him, her faced was drawn with a mixture of angry and bewilderment.

"Don't make me break your arm, woman. Put down the damn scissors." He growled at her. Bulma's mother squeak in horror behind him.

Bulma did as she was told. Vegeta did not release her arm however, he instead took a moment to glance around the room. He had seen her throw tantrums before, but this was a level he had yet to see. She had completely trashed her own room. That's when he noticed the small pieces of royal blue fabric all over the floor and the shimmering diamonds strewn all over the carpet. He looked over to the vanity, where Bulma's dress lay draped just an hour ago. He released her arm.

"What did you do?" he asked her. She simply took a step back and wrapped her arms around herself. There was a moment of total silence.

"Get out." Bulma said calmly. She looked at Vegeta and her mother with a look of hate and disgust that one could suppose she had momentarily borrowed from the Saiyan prince.

Though he wasn't intimidated by her, Vegeta turned and walked away. Bunny, however, lingered in the doorway.

"Bulma, dear, what's going on? Do you want to talk to about it? I'm worried darling." Bunny expressed, her anxiety very present on her face.

"GET. OUT." Bulma screamed back at her. Bunny had to back away, frightened by the harshness of her daughter's words. Bulma took the occasion to slam her bedroom door once again. Bunny felt tears prickle in her eyes. Her daughter had never rejected her affections in such a disturbingly violent fashion before. What had happened to her?

* * *

Vegeta retreated to his own room, in hopes of at least getting a bit of meditation done. That way he could say that day hadn't been completely wasted. He hated the idea of having to train outdoors, under regular gravity. But it would seem it might be necessary for at least a couple days. He decided to first clean the small wound he had received from Bulma. He almost laughed at her attack, pitiful as it was. However, he found that he slightly admired her boldness. She must have known that, ultimately, she could not truly hurt him. He open a cupboard filled with various sized towels. He took a small one, wetted it and washed the five tiny cuts. He cleaned a bit of blood that had dried, and threw the soiled clothe in its designated basket for washing.

Returning to his bedroom, he sat down in front of his bed and began the slow process of entering a meditative state. He was jolted away from mindfulness when a heart-wrenching scream came from the room next to his, followed by a crashing sound and then a explosion of sobs.

There was no way he was going to get any meditation done.

He had to wonder why she was so upset. It was more than upset. Bulma was known for throwing tantrums, in which she would usually yell a lot, throw things and then calm down and act like it never happened. This time she was plagued with sadness, and Vegeta had to wonder where this sudden outburst of tearful fury came from. He walked over to his balcony, round and small, and hopped off of it. If he was going to get any work done, it would be outside.

He did a few warm up stretches, and then sank into a difficult kata. He could still hear the occasional wail coming from Bulma's room.

'It's really bad this time.' He thought 'Definitely going to steer clear of this one.'

He almost lost balance as a pounding music suddenly erupted from Bulma's room. It felt like it was tunneling through his already damaged ears. He swore loudly and glared at Bulma's balcony. He could just not win today. He had promised himself that he would not let the woman distract him, but this was a whole new level. Not only was she distracting, she was a downright inconvenience. He growled, now thoroughly irritated. He took flight and blasted off towards a small mountain range in the northern edge of the city, leaving Bulma to deal with her demons.

* * *

**The previous day**

Yamcha sat in his leather recliner, a small glass filled with golden liquid and three ice cubes clutched in his hand. He had purchased three large bottles of the liqueur, using the Capsule Corp credit card Bulma had given him years ago. When he had awoken this morning, he had a sudden moment of clarity. He understood something that had been plaguing him for quite some time.

Bulma was in love with Vegeta.

He felt terribly foolish for not realizing it sooner. It had been an entire fortnight since the Gravity Room had exploded. He had seen the fear and anxiety that Bulma was exhibiting towards Vegeta's wellbeing. He had brushed it off as her womanly nature. She had always rushed to help him and the other fighters when they were injured. But Vegeta wasn't like the other fighters. The so-called prince was just as much of an enemy as the prophesized androids. Hell, she had even confessed to dreaming about kissing the Saiyan.

He had to admit that he wasn't completely innocent in their relationship. He was known to have regularly wandering eyes, and occasionally wandering hands and lips. But he never loved any of those girls. It was always Bulma who he wanted to crawl into bed with at the end of the day and kiss goodnight. She was the one who had truly betrayed their love. And this was the reason for the small glass in his hand.

In his opinion, Bulma's actions in nursing Vegeta back to health – and by default making him stronger – was proof that her affections were no longer directed towards him. And if that was so, then he no longer considered himself to be engaged in an exclusive relationship with her. So tonight he was going to go out and do all the things a man his age should be doing. And he was going to love every minute.

After all, he had ten years to make up for.

* * *

A/N: Well there you have it! I am already working on chapter 3, as I had a clear direction for that chapter. It will be longer and have a ton of B&V interaction.

Also, I have the story currently listed as _angst_ since this is the genre I would have put it in 8 years ago, when I last published fanfiction. However, I've noted that there is a new genre called hurt/comfort. Would the story belong more in that category? What even is that category?

Please review and help me out!


	3. Chapter 3 - Memories and Mayhem

A/N: Hello all! As promised, this chapter was already in the works when I posted the last one. So now it's all ready :)

I must take a moment to thank everyone who reviewed. I can't even express how giddy I get when I see that I have a new review. I also wanted to address Bulma's behaviour in the last chapter - I agree, it was very intense. However, I was basing it off of DragonBall Bulma, when she decides it would be totally appropriate to shoot a child that she hit with her car, yeah pretty intense.

On another note, a bit of a **warning**, as Vegeta is a bit OOC in the latter part of this chapter. He's rather frazzled, so work with me okay? Something will happen soon enough that he will snap back into place, I promise! Also, though this is (and will be) a darker story, this chapter has a few drips of humour in it, I hope you don't mind.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z ... Though I wish I did... **

**Chapter 3 - Memories and Mayhem  
**

Vegeta returned the following morning, having decided to train overnight to make up for so much lost time. Training in the woods proved to be a good exercise, much to his surprise and satisfaction. He was bruised and bloody, with ripped clothing and a fair amount of twigs stuck in his hair (stupid sap), but he had gotten a good amount of work done. He entered his room through his still open balcony window, and rushed to the shower. Once he managed to get cleaned up, he quickly dressed in comfy sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. He was desperately hoping that a large breakfast would be hot and ready as soon as he got downstairs. When he left his bedroom, he was shocked to find a small group of people huddled around Bulma's bedroom door. Most of them he didn't recognize, but he couldn't hide his surprise when he saw that Dr. Briefs had returned.

"Oh Vegeta!" Mrs. Briefs ran over to him and grabbed his arm. Why are Earthlings so obsessed with touching others?! "It's just awful Vegeta! My baby... She doesn't... I can't even..."

Vegeta was stunned to see Mrs. Briefs so emotional and sounding so utterly terrified. He had only been gone for eighteen hours, certainly Bulma couldn't have done anything too terrible. The compound was still standing, he noted. Mrs. Briefs pulled the reluctant Saiyan over to the rest of the group. Dr. Briefs looked at him, worry and stress were clear on the older man's face.

"Ah, Vegeta, you're back." Dr. Briefs turned to a small woman dressed in a black suit. "What do you think, Dr. Kennedy? She converses with this young man on a daily basis, do you think we should give it a try?"

"It's unlikely he'll accomplish anything. The most we can do it wait it out, and be here when she's ready." she replied. Vegeta's left eye twitched, he was not a fan of this unknown woman, and who was she to say he couldn't accomplish something?

"It couldn't hurt to try. Please, let's just try." Bunny begged. She looked over to Vegeta. He didn't know what was going on, and it was starting to piss him off. A lot.

"Well alright. Just please be aware that if it doesn't work, she could become even more agitated." the woman called Kennedy answered. Vegeta was tired of people talking about him like he wasn't standing right next to them.

"Is someone going to tell me what the fuck is going on here?" he barked at the small crowd. Everyone but the Briefs sank away from the intimidating man. Dr. Briefs cleared his throat.

"Well, as you know, Bulma was rather upset yesterday. She did calm down after a couple hours, and Bunny found out that Bulma..." he coughed a bit, his brows creased and he frowned "Bulma saw Yamcha having sex with another woman. When she was telling her mother, the tantrum started all over again, and then all of sudden, she doesn't remember anything about her life. I got here as fast as I could. She's been like this for hours."

Vegeta took the time to filter through this information. Yamcha had betrayed Bulma. And she had seen him in the act. How despicable. Vegeta felt a rage boiling up inside of him, even Saiyans knew the worth of a good mate and remained faithful until the end. How could that idiot even think about doing something with another woman. His skin was crawling at the thought of that loser even touching Bulma when he had been touching someone else in the same day. Damn disgusting weakling.

'I should rip the limbs off of the bastard. How dare he even think of betraying Bulma!' Vegeta raged to himself.

And what was this nonsense about Bulma not remembering anything? Surely she was acting, trying to get pity and attention. But then he doubted that Bulma would want to cause her parents this much distress, and Dr. Briefs had even come back from his trip. How could this be real?

"It's called dissociative amnesia. It's extraordinarily rare, but it does occur, usually when someone experiences a severe trauma." Dr. Kennedy interjected, as if reading his thoughts.

"And what do you want me to do about it?" he asked, glaring at the small woman.

"Just go talk to her. Please Vegeta, maybe she remembers you." Mrs. Briefs asked him. Her face was red and blotchy, and she clung to a handkerchief. Vegeta mentally sighed. The last time Mrs. Briefs had asked him to talk to Bulma, things hadn't gone well for him. He figured that if Bulma couldn't even remember her own mother, then she would not remember him. He shrugged and walked over to the door of Bulma's room and burst in, in the same manner he had done the previous day.

There was a loud bang and a stinging on his shoulder. Everyone who was in the hallway hit the deck and covered their heads. A small piece of lead fell to the floor next to Vegeta's foot.

"Dammit woman. I swear I'll be deaf if you don't stop making so much damn noise." he shouted, slightly wincing due to his still bruised eardrums. He focused on Bulma and noticed she was holding a handgun, and it was pointed on him. Great. First stabbing, now shooting. She was getting more violent towards him every day.

Bulma blinked and lowered the gun.

"Vegeta! Oh thank Kami! I knew you'd come! I just knew it! Quick, close the door before they get in here!" Bulma replied, looking extremely elated. Vegeta, on the other hand, was totally stunned. She remembered him.

The group on the floor all gasped simultaneously. Vegeta turned his head to look at them, and swiftly closed and locked the door. He heard the gun clunk on the floor and he barely had time to turn his head back towards Bulma before she was wrapping her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest. She began to bawl.

"I was s-s-s-so s-scared. But I knew you'd be here. I knew I just had to wait." she sputtered to him. Vegeta was almost too shocked to speak. He quickly shook it off and regained his composure. He pried Bulma from him. She resisted, but eventually let go. She stared at his boots and sniffled.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked sternly. Bulma nodded. He growled. "Okay, who am I?"

"You're Vegeta." she replied simply, still not looking up. Vegeta raised an eyebrow at her extremely vague description of him, expecting something with colorful language and ridiculous nicknames.

"Don't play games, woman. What do you know about me?" he pressed. Bulma clenched her hands into fists.

"That's it! That's all I know! Your face, your name and that I trust you!" she shouted angrily, tears once again forming.

'She trusts me? How can she...? I mean I've done nothing too...' Vegeta's thoughts went off on a tangent. He reeled them back in, deciding to keep this tidbit of information locked in the deepest part of his mind.

So she didn't really remember him, he was just a face to her. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't slightly disappointed.

"What do they want?" Bulma asked, glaring at the door and concurrently drawing Vegeta out of his reverie.

"They are making sure you are safe." he replied, not really knowing what else to say. Bulma didn't look convinced. She walked back over to what Vegeta could only described as a bedroom furniture fort.

She had turned over both of her dressers, her vanity and nightstand to create a small barrier between herself and the other half of the room. She had piled her many pillows on top of the furniture and, when sitting, she was perfectly hidden. Vegeta chuckled, knowing that in her regular state of mind, Bulma could have made something that would actually protect her, and not look like it was built by a six year old.

"Are you coming or what? Don't stand too close to the door, they might try to blow it up." Bulma urged him. He decided to play along, and followed her to her "fort". He found that she had thrown a few blankets on the floor, next to a pillow.

"Have you slept?" he asked her. She lowered her head.

"No, I've been keeping watch. I don't want them to take me away when I'm not looking."

This is when Vegeta decided to really look at her. Her eyes were red and swollen, her hair was matted and her clothes were tattered. She didn't even look like Bulma. He frowned. That bastard was going to pay.

"Okay. Get some sleep then. I'll take first watch." he volunteered, though he had not slept for nearly a day himself. But he had done this multiple times in his life, it would not be difficult to do it again.

Bulma crawled over to her designated sleeping area, and as soon as her head it the pillow, she was gone. Vegeta took sat in the spot where she had been, but instead of watching the door, he watched her. He had seen her sleep before. Usually he would need a repair done for the GR and he would dramatically intrude into her bedroom, demanding she do it immediately. However, he was known on occasion to go into her room quietly, only to flip over her mattress and dump her on the floor and then demand she do what he asked immediately.

And even though he had only seen her completely asleep those few times, he could still tell her sleep was greatly disturbed. Her brow was furrowed and her lips were drawn into a straight line. She was also curled into a tight ball, as if trying to keep herself from falling apart. It made his blood boil. Sure, Bulma was a flirt. She had even made a few advances on the prince himself, but it was never taken seriously. It was part of her persona, she was vain. It was no secret she liked attention. However, she was fiercely loyal, to her friends and her boyfriend. Vegeta's face contorted at the word. Boys had no place in Bulma's bed, she deserved a man. Yamcha was far from it. Vegeta's thoughts were starting to make him angry, so he turned away from her to watch the door, even though he knew it would not open.

* * *

Nearly nine hours passed until Bulma woke up. Vegeta had not moved from where she had left him, and for that she was grateful. She sat up, dusted herself off and looked around the room. Everything seemed right, so she walked across the room to go use the bathroom.

When she came back, she sat next to Vegeta, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. He didn't spare her a look. She frowned and wondered why she trusted him so much.

"What do you remember?" he asked, surprising her. She knitted her brow.

"Just your face, and a calm feeling when I think about it. As if I knew if I could find you, I would be safe. But instead you found me. Thanks for that, by the way. I'm glad you're here." she said while tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

Vegeta felt a slight blush appear on his cheeks. How could she possibly see him in such high regards when she knew what he was. Then he realized that in her current state, she didn't know him at all. He wondered what he could tell her about himself. If he lied, would she believe? Could he recreate an image of himself for her, without all the terrible things he had done? Then he wondered why he cared if she knew he was a monster. It was reality, it had to be accepted, not ignored.

He was suddenly overwhelmed with the power he now possessed over Bulma. He could tell her absolutely anything, and she would believe him. There wasn't anyone else in the universe she could trust. Part of him wanted to tell her a bunch of lies, just for kicks, but he quickly dismissed the thought. There were too many ways he could manipulate her, and if he understood the doctor correctly, this memory loss would wear off in a couple days. She would realize what he had done and she probably would never forgive him. Then who would fix his training equipment?

"Hn."

"You can sleep if you want. I'll be alright." she said, picking at her nails. Vegeta nodded walked over to her sleeping area.

"Give me about three hours. That should be plenty." he said. A look of confusion flitted across her face, but she shrugged and nodded. She picked up her discarded gun and settled into the watch spot. Vegeta laid down on his side, facing the bedroom door, closed his eyes and went right to sleep.

* * *

Vegeta felt two small hands pushing on his arm and his eyes instantly shot open. They immediately found their way to Bulma's eyes, and he had to hold his breath. Her eyes were clear, innocent and so mesmerizing. He felt like each time he looked, really looked, he could find a new level of blue in those pools.

"It's been three hours." she said. Vegeta blinked twice and sat up quickly, nearly knocking over Bulma. Damn distracting woman. He was about to tell her to back off, but his stomach interrupted him with a loud growl.

"You hungry?" she asked while laughing at the obnoxiously loud sound.

"For a genius, you're an idiot." he replied coldly, but it didn't have the desired effect, instead Bulma's face lit up and she broke into a large smile.

"I'm a genius?!" she exclaimed excitedly, her tone indicating she was expecting more information.

Vegeta did not indulge her. Instead, he glared menacingly at her. But as usual, she was not even remotely fazed by his scare-tactics.

"Oh come on! Just answer!" she pressed. Vegeta huffed.

"Yes. By this planet's standards, you're considered above average in terms of intelligence."

"Cool! Is this my house?"

"Yes."

"Do you live here?"

"Yes."

"Are we lovers?"

Vegeta instinctively recoiled from her, and tried to convince his body not to let any blood go to his face. To his great dismay, his body did as it pleased – which seemed to be a growing trend around Bulma – and his face was soon covered in a pretty shade of crimson.

"NO! Absolutely not." he spurted, "You're my servant. Nothing more." he added for good measure.

"Huh. So I'm a genius, but I'm your servant. Well that doesn't seem right." Her face changed into a pensive state. "Why do I trust you, if you mean nothing to me, and I mean nothing to you?"

Vegeta was so taken aback by the question, cursing silently in all the languages he knew, that he simply looked away from her.

"Well?" she prodded once more.

"Stop talking, woman."

"I'm just trying to make sense of all this. It's pretty frightening you know. I'm here all by myself, I don't know anything useful, and all I know is I gotta find this one guy..." she rambled to him.

"I said shut up!" he hollered at her. Her mouth snapped shut instantly. He was so surprised that she actually listened to him that a small victory smirk danced across his mouth. That is until he looked over at her and noticed easily recognizable emotion of fear painted on her face. He had scared her. He realized that he truly did not enjoy the fact that he had legitimately caused her to be frightened, and that was puzzling to him. He sighed, his victory over the woman was short-lived.

"You are my servant because I am a prince. You create and then fix the things I need to get strong enough to stop your planet from being destroyed." he answered, leaving out as much detail as possible.

The fear slid from her face, and she was once again pensive. Bulma sat silently for a moment, and when he thought she had finally decided to stop pestering him with questions, she opened her mouth again.

"So you're my protector." It wasn't a question.

"No."

"But you just said..." she replied, confused.

"All I want is to fight the androids and then beat the living hell out of Kakarot. You're a stepping stone in both of these goals. The fact that I'm helping the planet is irrelevant." he said while avoiding looking at her and instead staring at a stray diamond on the floor.

"What's a Kakarot?" she answered, trying to capture his gaze by playing with a stray strand of hair.

"I believe you affectionately refer to him as your best friend." He answered, disgust dripping off each word.

"Oh. Well why do you want to beat him up?" Her questions were starting to make Vegeta want to snap her neck.

"He stole my honour." he replied simply, again avoiding all details. She knew all these things already, she just didn't know that she knew, and the prince didn't particularly feel like retelling her the contents of her entire life.

"Ah, well, I'm all for it then. Make sure you get in one for me." she said, smiling largely at him.

A small smirk formed on Vegeta's lips and he even allowed a low chuckle to escape from his mouth, for he knew that she would never again approve of his bloodlust towards the self-appointed saviour of the Earth. Bulma found that she was once again confused, and she was about to inquire about her mysterious protector's behaviour when she was in interrupted by another loud grumble from his stomach. She tried to suppress a giggle, but failed. It sounded like he'd never had a bite to eat in his life. Vegeta instinctively crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her for her incessant mocking.

"Ahem. Sorry." she said, looking at him sheepishly once her giggle fit was over. She was shocked when he abruptly stood up.

"I'm going to get us food." he said as he turned to open her balcony window. He didn't even get the chance to take one step away from the so-called fort when Bulma's hands grabbed onto his pant leg.

"Don't. Don't leave me. Please." The tone of her voice changed so quickly, that Vegeta's head whipped around. Her eyes were wide, pleading, the blood had drained from her face giving her a corpse-like appearance and her arms were shaking. She was consumed by terror.

"I'm hungry and I didn't get to eat more than one plate today because of you. If you don't let go, you'll regret it." The threat was clear in his voice, though he didn't intend it to come out as harsh as it had, but he was hungry and that made him edgy.

"You're leaving me?" she squeaked out, and her hands quickly let go of Vegeta's pants and then wrapped around herself.

Vegeta was stupefied when Bulma's ki suddenly jumped and then began to fluctuate wildly. Her face had started to contort as if she was in some sort of intense physical pain, but he could neither see nor smell anything that could cause her to react so strongly. Panic flitted across the delicate features of her face.

"Bulma?" he questioned, forcing himself to keep his voice as soft as it could be.

She did not look up at him. She started breathing very heavily, each breath sounding laboured and painful. Vegeta's eyes darted around the room and he searched for an assailant. Then her breaths quickened, rapidly becoming erratic, as if she simply could not get any relief from breathing.

"Bulma!" He couldn't hide the slight undertone of fright that was buried in his voice.

He kneeled down next to her to look for whatever could be stopping her lungs from functioning, but she looked fine. He looked to her face. It was becoming red and he could see a layer of thick sweat forming. Her breathing changed from struggles to wheezing, and Vegeta felt panic brewing in the deepest part of a heart he was certain had long gone cold. The only person in the universe who actually trusted him was dying right in front of him, he didn't know why and he couldn't stop it. His eyes prickled.

Vegeta grabbed Bulma's shoulders and shouted at her. "Breathe woman!"

He could hear the panicked voices of the group in the hallway when he had shouted, but he took no actions to let them into the room. Bulma continued to wheeze and tears had started sliding down her cheeks.

"Come on, breathe." he tried to say as soothingly as possible, though it still sounded like an order. She wasn't responding at all.

He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. The unfiltered terror that her eyes shot at him caused a tugging feeling in his chest. When he was sure he had her attention, he took in a large breath through his nose and exhaled loudly through his mouth.

"Breathe." he commanded and repeated the breathing motions.

He could see sanity flitter in Bulma's eyes as she began to imitate him. After about a minute of breathing in sync, Bulma's body relaxed and she was able to return to a mostly normal state. The relief that momentarily took over Vegeta's mind was quickly replaced.

"What the hell was that?!" he demanded, angry at her for almost dying for no apparent reason.

"I... I don't know. I felt like I was going to die. There was a pressure on my chest, it hurt so bad Vegeta." she leaned onto his chest and began to cry freely onto his shirt. His mind screamed at him to push her off, but his heart had been awoken by all the commotion and ultimately won. Vegeta wrapped his arms around her shaking frame, to comfort her, but also to convince himself that she was alright.

"Please don't leave." she whispered through her tears.

Vegeta didn't answer. He simply sat Indian style and pulled Bulma into his lap. She stopped crying and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. She might not know why she couldn't remember her life, but she knew that being left caused pain. The amount of distress that Bulma was in told Vegeta how disturbed she was by her encounter with her lover. Reduced from a beautiful spit-fire genius to a dishevelled snivelling wreck clinging to an evil mass murdered. He unconsciously drew Bulma closer to him when his fire took to his blood as he realized the only woman he had actually bothered to respect was being treated like a common whore by her mate.

No more. If he had his way, the disgustingly weak Earthling would be dead before morning. Bulma curled into him, and he looked down to her. He wanted to torture that man until he begged for death, and then torture him some more. But tonight, Bulma needed him to stay. She needed to be protected. She needed a protector. So he would stay.

His Saiyan pride cried out in horror and called him weak and every synonym of the word.

* * *

A/N: There it is. Things are starting to get pretty overwhelming for Vegeta, and it's going to get worst before it gets better, my friends.

Please leave a review, it really helps me focus on my writing!

Until next time.


	4. Chapter 4 - Ice and Insult

A/N: Hello! I'm back with another chapter! This one is shorter than the last, but it actually wasn't supposed to exist at all, so think of it as a bonus chapter!

I had so many reviews last chapter, I'm so grateful and so humbled by all your comments. Thank you so much, especially to the people who have reviewed each chapter to far!

I also want to say that I am starting up university again tomorrow, it's my last semester (eeeek! So excited!). This return to academia means that I will have a lot less time for writing, and unfortunately my updates will be a lot farther apart. I will do my best to use my free time to write and get updates to you wonderful readers ASAP.

EDIT: I found a couple mistakes and reloaded the chapter. I was tired when editing, if you find any more please let me know!

_**Song prompt: Brick by Boring Brick – Paramore (fits this chapter and the last extremely well - mentions a prince and wolf, how convenient, give it a listen!)**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z. But if I did, I still wouldn't fill these three years, because I love all the wonderful fanfiction too much!  
**

**Chapter 4 - Ice and Insult  
**

The late night continued without disturbance. Bulma sat in Vegeta's lap and he guarded her like a precious treasure. They both danced in and out of sleep, sometimes sleeping at the same time, sometimes watching the other one sleep. Not a single word was said until the sun began to colour the sky a gentle shade of pink.

"I'm hungry." Bulma whispered. Vegeta looked down at her.

"Hn." Bulma interpreted that as "Me too."

"Could we go get food?" she asked. Vegeta did not miss the use of the word "we" in her request.

"We could get out through the balcony. You're a pretty fit guy, I'm sure you could climb down, and then I could jump and you could catch me." she added, trying to create a strong case.

Her words made Vegeta realize that he had failed to inform her that he was of an alien species and had the ability to fly.

"Fine I'll take you to get food. But no balcony hopping, we'll do it my way." he smirked at her and his words were laced with so many undertones that Bulma wasn't sure that she felt like going with him anymore.

Nevertheless, she lifted herself off of him and started to work through the piles of clothing that were on the floor. She found a purple v-neck t-shirt and denim mini-skirt that she liked. She was starting to walk to the bathroom for some privacy when a pair of gray leggings fluttered onto her head. She ripped them off and glared and Vegeta. He had an amused look on his face, which she thought was peculiar, but let it pass.

"You're going to need those, unless you want the entire city looking up your skirt." he said, and Bulma once again was unable to decipher the hidden meanings in his words. She simply shrugged and went to the bathroom.

Vegeta heard the shower turn on and he made his way over to the still locked door to Bulma's room. The crowd from the previous day had been reduced to Mrs. Briefs sleeping on the ground with Dr. Briefs reading a scientific magazine next to his wife.

"We're going to get food. I need money, old man." Vegeta said, looking away from the good doctor, suddenly ashamed that he had the audacity to ask this man for money when he had spent the night with his heiress once again. Kami, things were going downhill fast...

"Is she...?" the doctor left the question open to interpretation.

"She's showering, she doesn't remember anything. She slept a lot yesterday. We're hungry." Vegeta stated, trying to answer in every possible way in hopes of quickly ending the conversation. He crossed his arms and drummed his fingers on his upper arm to demonstrate his irritation.

Dr. Briefs sighed in relief and stood up. He dug into the back pocket of his slacks and pulled out his wallet. He pulled out a credit card that he usually offers to employees when they are working over-time and going to fetch some food. He hesitated. The last time he had given a credit card to a young man to make sure he could spoil his daughter properly, it had backfired in the form of the current situation. He sighed heavily and handed the card to a slightly confused Vegeta.

"Try and not go too far, alright my boy?" Dr. Briefs said, sitting back onto the floor and caressing his sleeping wife's hair.

Vegeta nodded, decided to ignore the doctor's strange behaviour and retreated back into the bedroom. After all, most of the doctor's behaviour was odd. He sat back down at the designated watch spot and waited for Bulma to emerge from the bathroom. It took her a good 20 minutes to be washed and dressed. When Vegeta got a good look of her, he realized he had seldom seen her without any makeup. Her skin was clearly smooth and flawless, and her eyes were so very obviously the focus point of her natural beauty.

"You should put some of that lard you call makeup on." he said to her, standing up. A look of hurt and confusion fluttered across her features.

"I thought I looked alright. We're just going to eat." she replied quietly and subconsciously tugging on the bottom of her shirt.

"The people in this city will recognize you, you need to do that whole morning routine thing so you look presentable to the people who don't know you." he recited to her. Bulma cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Sounds like we've had this conversation before." she replied.

"We have, and that's what you tell me." he said smugly. She huffed slightly and bunched her fists.

"Well normal me is blind then. I think I look good. Let's go." she answered, crossing her arms and frowning, not really liking that she was being told that she was a very vain person in her everyday life.

Vegeta simply enjoyed her frustration. He wordlessly grabbed her around her hips and lifted her out to the balcony.

"Vegeta?" Anxiety was intertwined into her voice. A playful smirk formed on Vegeta's lips and he took off.

Vegeta had expected a painful death scream or a string of perfectly articulated curse words but nothing could have prepared him for the sounds currently escaping Bulma's mouth.

She was laughing. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his arm supporting her body weight, with not a sign of terror in her face. She was having the time of her life. Vegeta was pouting at the lack of effect of his little stunt, while Bulma enjoyed the wind whipping her hair all around.

"This is fantastic!" she shouted, "Can everyone fly like this?"

"No." he replied, still peeved. Her smiled got even larger, if that was possible.

"You're amazing." Vegeta said nothing to her compliment. He could hear the adoration in her voice, she was being genuine with him and quite frankly it was starting to freak him out. Things were getting extremely out of hand and he had to shut this down fast or one of them would say something they would never live down once things got back to normal.

Though Vegeta was flying relatively slow, they quickly arrived at their destination. He dropped gently back to the ground and once he was sure Bulma had regained her balance, he unwound his arm from around her waist. He had brought them to a small pizza shop that was open 24 hours a day. This was also his favourite place to get pizza from; their sauce had a bit of a hot kick to it and they were never stingy with the cheese. Once inside, Vegeta's nose was filling with so many delectable aromas, his mouth began to water and his stomach growled hilariously loud. Bulma giggled again.

"Do you remember pizza?" he asked. An embarrassed look embraced Bulma's face, and she shook her head. Vegeta rolled his eyes. He turned to the cash register and grabbed a small paper menu that detailed all the different kinds of foods that were offered at this undervalued restaurant. He handed the paper to her and she sat at a small, round table to read it over.

"What do you get?" she asked, looking up at Vegeta, who was leaning against the counter.

"Just pepperoni. It's simple, but it works." he replied, his mind already imaging the feeling of biting into his favourite pizza. Bulma nodded.

"What do I usually get?" she said, still looking down with her brow furrowed. Vegeta hesitated. He had never particularly bothered to find out what kind of pizza Bulma usually got for herself. He just shrugged.

Finally, a stout woman with dark hair and dark eyes emerged from the back of the restaurant with a handful of boxes.

"Oh! So sorry to keep you waiting! I was getting these from the storage, I didn't hear you come in," the woman placed the boxes on the ground, fixed her apron and turned to Vegeta, "What can I get for you two?" she asked, smiling.

Vegeta looked over to Bulma, she seemed to have settled on something. He motioned for her to order first. She stood up clutching the menu and walked over to the cash area.

"I'd like to have a vegetarian pizza please, just a small one." Bulma eyed the fridge behind the woman, and then looked over to Vegeta.

"Orange soda." he answered her silent question. That one he knew, the fridge in Bulma's lab was always packed full of the stuff.

The woman wrote down Bulma's order. "And for you, hun?"

"I'll start with fifteen large pepperoni pizzas. And we'll see after that." The woman's jaw dropped as she scribbled Vegeta's order.

"Make hers first." he added. Bulma smiled at him. The pizza woman walked over a phone that was hanging on the wall, dialed and yelled to whoever was on the other end to get downstairs to help her.

The woman gave Bulma her can of soda and a straw. Bulma thanked her and went to sit back down, Vegeta followed suit. Bulma opened her soda, unwrapped her straw and started to cautiously sip. Her love of the sugary drink was written all over her face, and she sucked harder on the straw. Vegeta's mind was thrown rather violently into the gutter. He shook his head to clear the damning thoughts and Bulma stared at him curiously.

"What?" she asked. Vegeta just shook his head again. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"I'm getting really irritated that I can't remember anything. Can you tell me why I can't remember?" Bulma asked, fiddling with the discarded straw wrapper. Vegeta sighed audibly.

"I'd really rather not. I don't think it's a good idea. And it's not my place." he answered, looking out a dirty window at the early bird commuters of West City. Bulma pondered his answer, and decided that she would not press him for more information on the subject.

"Okay, well try to help me remember something. Anything you want." she replied, offering him a compromised. He groaned, but ultimately agreed through a single head nod. He searched his mind for a good place to start.

"Where do you live?" he asked. Bulma's face scrunched in concentration. She even closed her eyes. But she shook her head; she couldn't remember.

The stout woman returned, two flat boxes in hand, one small and one large. She moved around the counter and placed them in front of their respective owners.

"Anything else to drink?" the woman asked.

"Water." Vegeta ordered. She nodded and fetched his water for him.

Vegeta opened his box and enjoy the warmth of the fresh pizza on his face. He snatched a particularly cheesy-looking piece and ate it in two large bites. By the time the woman came back with his water, he was done six of the twelve pieces. After such a stunning display, Bulma wasn't sure she was still hungry. It seemed that Vegeta had already eaten enough for both of them. But when he suddenly stopped and glared at her, she opened her own pizza box and began to eat.

It was not often that Bulma allowed Vegeta to eat in peace and quiet, so he let himself simply enjoy his food and ignore everything else. Bulma was finishing up her first piece of pizza when Vegeta tossed his empty box on the ground. He took the time between the end of his first course and the finishing of Bulma's meal to think of a better way to jog her memory. If asinine life details didn't do any good, perhaps something with strong emotions would aid his cause. Bulma wiped her mouth clean with a napkin and folded her hands on her lap.

"Frieza." Vegeta said simply, hoping to extract any malice from his own voice that would give away the reaction he was expecting from her. To his surprise, she sat up straight and fear flashed on her face. Then she quickly calmed down, and looked very confused.

"That scared me." she said, almost excitedly.

"It was supposed to." Vegeta said, no longer bothering to hide the abhorrence in his tones. He was encouraged by her reaction however, it seemed her emotional memory was still intact. At this moment, the pizza lady brought out three more boxes of glorious food for Vegeta, but she didn't place them in front of him right away.

"You can pay for all these, right?" she said crossly. A low growl could be heard through the small room, causing both Bulma and the woman to jump. Vegeta pulled the plastic rectangle from his pocket and handed it to the lady. Her eyes widened as she read the Capsule Corporation logo printed on the card. She ungraciously dropped the pizzas on the table and stared at Bulma.

"Oh my goodness! Miss Bulma Briefs!" she exclaimed. Bulma panicked and looked at Vegeta, who rolled his eyes.

"You can charge double if you don't tell anyone we're here." he said coolly. He could see the dollar signs forming in the woman's eyes as she nodded and happily skipped away to make the rest of Vegeta's order.

"Thanks." Bulma mumbled, wringing her hands together. She was sure Vegeta was kidding when he said people would recognize her. She suddenly felt very self-conscious and sunk back into her chair a bit. Vegeta took no notice, he was much too preoccupied with devouring every particle of cheesy, meaty, saucy goodness.

"Another one. Tell me another one." she demanded, feeling pissed off that everyone knew who she was except her. Vegeta finished off the second pizza and searched his own memories.

"Gohan." he replied, again too busy with the pizza to pay any attention to her tone of voice.

Bulma's face lit up in a big smile and she suddenly felt proud and somewhat protective. She searched her heart for any reason behind her reaction.

"He's a child, isn't he?" she said quietly. Vegeta finally stopped eating and looked at her.

"How did you know?" he responded, secretly glad that they were making progress.

"I just felt really protective, and proud. And a little bit warm inside, like I'm attached to him." she relayed. Vegeta pondered her answer, trying to find another suitable character to cause an emotional reaction.

"Is he... is he my son?" Bulma asked bashfully. Vegeta chocked on his last piece of pizza.

"No," he coughed, "No he's Kakarot's brat." Bulma sighed in relief.

"Oh okay, good. I didn't think this body looked like it had given birth." she said while grinning. Vegeta chuckled nervously. He dropped his current pile of pizza boxes on the floor.

"Ginyu." Bulma's face writhed with disgust.

"Frog." she answered.

"What?!"

"He's a frog. Oh Kami, he's so nasty." she said, feeling her skin crawl. Vegeta let out a hearty laugh.

"Yes he's a frog. Well that's certainly not really relevant to his character, I suppose it's good that you remember that." Vegeta retorted, leaning back into his chair and smirking.

A gangly, exhausted looking teenager came out into the lobby area of the pizza shop and gathered the pile of discarded boxes Vegeta had made. Vegeta felt like he had began to discover a trend in Bulma's memories. Her time on planet Namek seemed to be, at least partially, intact. He decided to continue asking about her band of space travelling misfits.

"Krillin."

This time there was only confusion on Bulma's face. Vegeta cursed silently, he thought he was on to something.

"I have mixed feeling about him. He's a friend. But no more, and no less. Nothing strong about this one." Bulma finally said. Vegeta smirked, and agreed. Nothing strong about that man whatsoever.

The teenage boy returned, looking livelier, and deposited five pizza boxes in front of Vegeta, then quickly scurried back to the kitchen to aid his mother with the final stretch of Vegeta's order. Bulma sat quietly, lost in her half-memories and digging for more triggers. Vegeta attacked the stack of greasy goodness wholeheartedly.

The sun had risen completely when Vegeta was done his new pile, and Bulma had even eaten a second slice of her own meal.

"I'm done." he announced, "We'll take the rest back to Capsule Corp."

Bulma's brows knitted once again and frustration finally took its toll.

"I want my memories back, and I want them right now! I am so sick of this bullshit! This isn't fair!" she wailed angrily, crossing her arms and pouting.

While Bulma fumed, a very satisfied looking Vegeta laughed loudly.

"Oh and I suppose you think this is funny? I am going to smash your head in until you can't even remember how to piss!"

Another laugh.

"Oooh you are such a jerk! A ridiculously hungry flying jackass! Yup. That's YOU buddy."

"I can't believe I missed this." Vegeta whispered back to her. He grabbed his water bottle and down it in a few solid gulps.

Bulma was stunned into silence.

"At least you remember your friends." she spat angrily.

Vegeta had a moment of clarity. Of course! How could he have been so ignorant?

"One more," he said, suddenly serious, "I've got one more person." Bulma nodded, catching on to his unexpected change of demeanour.

"Remember when I spoke about Kakarot?" Bulma nodded again. "You refer to him by a different name. You call him Goku."

Bulma's head shot up and she inhaled sharply. Her eyes began to dart back and forth, as if she was watching a film at high speeds. Her features changed from being excited, to awe to terrible agony. Vegeta had been so in tune with Bulma for the past couple days that when her ki flared, indicating sudden distress, so did his. Instantaneously, Goku stood before them. His face was serious and his body was tense.

Bulma stood up, knocking over her chair, and threw her arms around the chest of the tall Saiyan. This is when Vegeta knew she had regained her memories. Within seconds, she was once again sobbing.

"Hey Bulma. It's okay." Goku gently comforted his friend.

"Yam-Yamcha doesn't w-a-a-a-ant m-me, Goku." Bulma managed to articulate as a dark spot began to form on Goku's training gi. Goku hugged her closer and she cried harder. He patted her back and used gentle words to calm her down.

"Yamcha had made a terrible decision. I'm sorry it hurt you so much." Goku replied. Vegeta swore he could hear guilt laced into the younger Saiyan's words, but he couldn't comprehend why.

All Vegeta could do was watch as Kakarot reminded him of all the things he could never be. All the things he would never be to Bulma. Protector, confidant, friend. He felt the hurt creep into his heart. One day. One day he had left down his guard, let her in, just a little. And look what he got out of it. A giant slap in the face. He hadn't decided if it was Bulma or Kakarot doing the slapping, and so he was terribly angry with both of them. He took his emotions and put them on lock-down. He was fooling himself. He was acting delusional. It was over now. He was back in control and he welcomed the ice back into his heart.

It was the woman who returned with the pizzas this time. She paid no attention to the hugging couple and handed the final stack of boxes to Vegeta and then placed the credit card on the table. He gave her a small nod of the head.

"Goku, will you take me home now?" Bulma said, wiping her tears from her eyes with her thumb.

"Sure Bulma." he replied softly, happy that she was calming down enough to talk properly. He turned to Vegeta.

"Hey Vegeta, you coming?" Vegeta simply stood.

Bulma marched outside the small shop, closely followed by the Saiyans. She shamelessly latched on to Goku and shot a death glare at Vegeta, who felt it wasn't deserved, but shot one back anyway. They blasted off to Capsule Corp, Goku carrying a fidgeting Bulma and Vegeta carrying pizza.

Once they landed, Bulma bolted into the house in search of her parents. Goku sighed loudly.

"I never imagined it would be this bad." the younger Saiyan expressed.

Vegeta simply glanced at him quizzically as he entered the house. Goku did not elaborate, instead he looked defeated.

"Hey Vegeta?"

"What is it, idiot?"

"Can I can a couple of those pizzas?" Vegeta rolled his eyes.

"No."

"Aw come on. You had a bunch!" Goku whined.

"Oh fine, if it will shut you up for a minute then fine!" Vegeta retorted in annoyance.

"Thanks Vegeta!" Goku grabbed the top box, opened it and began to inhale the leftovers.

Bulma and her parents entered the kitchen, where Goku and Vegeta were currently residing silently. Bunny walked passed Goku without so much as a greeting and went straight to Vegeta. She said nothing. He said nothing. They stared at each other for a moment. Their silent conversation meaning nothing to the others in the room, but he knew she was thanking him for keeping her daughter safe. He shrugged. She went to ask Goku if he would like something to drink.

Soon after, Bulma said her goodbyes to Goku. He said his goodbyes to the Briefs and left, an extra pizza in hand. Dr. Briefs wandered off to feed his pets. Mrs. Briefs began to take out the ingredients for lunch. Bulma stalked off to her lab to find something to distract her distressed mind.

Vegeta was left alone. No one acknowledged him. It was as if he was not even there. Feeling utterly insulted, he stomped up the stairs to his room, ripping a framed photo of Bulma and Yamcha off the wall as he went.

* * *

A/N: So Bulma's got her memories back, Vegeta's shutting himself away again and the cycle continues! What conflict will Bulma's new attitude bring for Prince Vegeta? And why is she being such a bitch anyway?

Working on it! Until next time.

Kindly leave a review :)


	5. Chapter 5 - Thoughts and Temptations

A/N: Hello all :) I'm back with a new chapter! School has kept me super busy, I also painted my apartment and designed my wedding invitations. But this story is always floating around in my mind. I have purchased a journal so I write no matter where I am.

This chapter, much like the last, is mostly building up Bulma and Vegeta's relationship for some intense hurtles in the next few chapters. So a lot of reflexions on Vegeta's part and not too much plot. Without further interuptions, enjoy the next installement!

**Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall Z or any associated characters. **

**Chapter 5 - Thoughts and Temptations**

Vegeta couldn't have designed a more perfect outcome to this horrendously humiliating situation if he tried. He was angry. With himself. With Bulma. With the gods. And he took it out on everyone that dared be in his presence.

Dr. Briefs quickly repaired the gravity room. Turned out to be a simple case of overheating and melted wires. Bulma never made herself known, except during breakfast. She had taken to working nights and sleeping during days. So Vegeta was left in peace to train, and train he did. After long days of metal smashing, he would drop off broken bots in Bulma's lab in the afternoon, while she was still sleeping of course, and they always showed up the next morning ready for another pounding. This avoidance, or peace as Vegeta called it, went on for weeks. No one spoke to Vegeta about his evenings with Bulma, and he was glad that people knew to avoid the touchy subject. This, however, changed one morning. Surprisingly to all, it was Vegeta who broke the silence.

"Where is she?" he seethed, not knowing why he was so curious and angry that he was letting it get the best of him yet again.

The Briefs elders shifted uncomfortably in their seats. It had been four straight days since Bulma had joined them for breakfast.

"Bulma had taken to eating in the lab," Dr. Briefs answered, "Though I wish she'd clean up a bit, the smell is rather revolting."

Bunny sighed loudly. "She won't eat anything I make for her. All she eats are those nasty frozen mini-pizzas."

Though Vegeta had received the information he was looking for, he was no more satisfied with it. He had still been unable to understand how he could have so intensely offended the blue-haired woman. He actually thought he was being more reasonable than usual with her. He simply shrugged it off, mentally acknowledging the enigma of females yet again, and finished his meal quickly in hopes of getting the jump on his daily routine.

* * *

Eight hours later, with an armful of bots, Vegeta entered Bulma's lab and chucked the scrap metal on the concrete floor. The smell of rotting food stung his nose and he recalled the words spoken by the doctor just this morning. He usually dropped the bots and made a point to get out of a place that brought an unwanted onslaught of thoughts about Bulma. Today he decided to peer around.

All cabinets were shiny, without even a thin layer of dust. Papers were organized in various piles and boxes were labelled and stacked high against the back wall. The plethora of tools usually strewn across the tables were nowhere to be seen, as they were neatly tucked away in their proper drawers. A multitude of crisp, white, stainless lab coats hung proudly in an open wardrobe behind Bulma's desk.

It was wrong. All wrong.

Vegeta had often heard Bulma refer to her lab as "organized chaos". This was a perfect lab, the only indication that it belonged to Bulma was the garbage that was overflowing – taking out the garbage was always a task she had refused to do. Vegeta's spine tingled in a way that convinced him that something was very wrong with Bulma. He turned and left, with a mental note to avoid Bulma at all costs.

* * *

The next morning, Bulma was still absent and Vegeta cared more than he should, once again. Though he hoped that this more than sufficiently awkward and infuriating situation with the woman would be blown away with the cool autumn winds that were pushing their way into West City, she frolicked in and out of his thoughts constantly. And he if was completely honest, he was bored. She was unpredictable and interesting and provided some form of entertainment, as well as an output for fighting. Though it wasn't physical, a spar was a spar and he was craving one. Desperately craving one, if he was still being completely honest. He once again felt the push and pull of the internal debate. Not wanting to seem legitimately concerned for Bulma's well-being – which he wasn't, he told himself – he left the table after his breakfast and made his was to his gravity room.

He was both angry and relieved when his internal debate was decided for him. As he opened the hatch to the gravity room, he discovered it looking quite empty. No bots. Bulma was falling behind on her work, and he was just the kick in the ass she needed to get back on track. He was well aware of the delicate situation he was in. With Bulma, it was always a balancing act. He had to be cutting enough to anger her, but not to the point of refusing to fix his training equipment. It was a learn-as-you-go process, he was starting to grasp which buttons set her off in a boiling rage and which turned her into an Ice Queen refusing to even acknowledge his presence. One of these Ice Queen buttons was being brutally awoken, so he decided it was best, at least this time, to bide his time until night. He powered up the gravity simulator and began his training session.

He found that his concentration was muddled. He wondered if Bulma was still perturbed by the violently abrupt end to her courtship with the weak bandit. Surely, after nearly a month, she had healed. Vegeta couldn't really comprehend what the big deal was. In his opinion, which he respected, the less of that pathetic excuse for a warrior that Bulma saw, the better. However, as recently as last week, he had overheard Bulma – it was hard _not_ to overhear – making many distraught telephone calls to Yamcha, who would never answer. She would shout wildly into the device about betrayal, hate, disgust and vengeance. Vegeta was certain he now knew the pinnacle of Bulma's anger and wanted to stay away from that train-wreck in waiting.

Speaking of anger, he still had not deciphered her motive for stabbing him, but he had narrowed it down to two possibilities. First, blind rage, something he was quite familiar with. Second, transference. He had become the aim of her anger, because her true target was not present. He suspected that her true motivation was probably a sick mixture of both these theories.

Vegeta dropped to the ground to do all his variations of push-ups. He had been seeing a lot of progress in his body while Bulma had been out of commission. Though he hated admitting it, especially to himself, his mind was lagging dangerously far behind. He was constantly feeling distracted, oversleeping, and downright lethargic for the last ten days or so. He didn't know what was causing the fuzziness of his mind, but he sure as hell was going to train until it went away. He flipped his body over to do an infinity of crunches, losing himself in the burning sensation in his abdomen and going into a state of automatism that would make any computer jealous.

* * *

Vegeta lowered his body into the steamy hot waters of his oversized bathtub. He let out an audible sigh of pleasure and his muscles cried out in ecstasy. It was three minutes past midnight, therefore it was his day off and he allowed himself the illicit gratification of soaking in hot water. When he had come to Earth, he found the established "work week" system to be ridiculous. Why would you have a week with an uneven amount of days? How could you properly divide your time if you have an odd amount of days? So Vegeta had rejected the Earthlings week system, much to Bulma's dismay, and devised his own ten day system. He could tell what part of the Earth week they were in by the actions of the Briefs family. On Sundays, the Dr. and Mrs. Briefs went to breakfast at a restaurant and if Bulma was plastered in front of the television with a large bowl of potato chips just before sunset, it was Thursday. Today was the tenth day of his cycle, and this day constituted his day off. Muscles need to rest after all.

Vegeta did his very best to let every muscle in his body relax, feeling the larger muscles expand significantly when he did so. His mind fluttered around loosely and he didn't have any particular thoughts. He closed his eyes and allowed his hearing to be the only sense that was still on guard. He could feel his ki extending from his body, searching for something. His eyes snapped open and he regained control. He had failed to do any meditation and had refused to purposely seek out another's ki since his encounter with Kakarot. He always ended up at the same place, a place he was currently refusing to go. He sighed loudly, this time with discontent. He wondered if there was a way to get her out of his system. He considered leaving, but the costs were too high. He considered setting her on fire, and simply watching her burn. It all came back to being the strongest. He had to be stronger than Kakarot, certainly, but he now knew he also had to be stronger than Bulma.

He snorted. Who would have guessed an Earth woman would have more strength and power than most of the men in the universe?

He knew he had to go see her tonight. She was hindering his path to ascension, and he refused to be slowed down. He still didn't know why she refused to talk to him. If he was the one to break the silence, did that make him stronger? Yes, assuredly. Of course it did. That's why he was going, in the end. To prove that he was stronger than she, and that she would bend to his will or else.

Empowered with his new reasoning, Vegeta rose swiftly from the tub and remove the stopper to allow the water to flow away. He dried with a luxurious-feeling towel and went to dress. He found himself in a pair of loose fitting cotton sweatpants and v-neck sweater. He hiked on a pair of hard-bottom slippers and darted soundlessly down the stairs.

Bulma kept a private lab under the main building of the compound. Vegeta opened the door the stairs leading underground and marched down with his shoulders squared. When he approached the second door that led directly into the lab space, he was a bit fazed to find there was no noise except a slow breathing coming from within. He crept up to the door, turned the handle and pushed it as quietly as he could. When the door was open enough that Vegeta could peek in, he was utterly confused by the scene that was laid out for him.

Bulma was dressed in pajama shorts and a white tank top outlined with lace, her lab coat was open down the front. Though her attire was frustratingly normal for this time of night, what was unusual was that she was sprawled out on the ground in front of her desk. She was staring intently at the ceiling and not moving at all. Vegeta frowned and his eyes surveyed the area. He couldn't see her face as clearly as he would have liked, he had a good view of the crown of her head though. Placed next to Bulma was a small rectangle with wires poking out of it that lead into Bulma's ears. He had come to know that Earthlings treasured these small electronic devices that played music for them. Vegeta could not fathom why any creature would want something so loud right in their ear canals, but ultimately it only proved how weak Earthling senses were.

Bulma's music was so loud that Vegeta could clearly make out the beat of it, even though he was standing ten meters away. He noted that it sounded different than any other type of music he had heard played during his short stay on Earth. Suddenly, Bulma's whole body shook violently, a loud sob erupted from her mouth and he could smell the salty tears that were very likely streaming down her face. Vegeta frowned harder. This is what she was doing all night instead of fixing his equipment? It was repulsively pathetic. Still, he realized his thoughts were also laced with concern. He pushed the door open completely and took a step into the lab. He could feel the cold of the concrete through his slippers. Bulma either didn't know he was there, or refused to acknowledge him, both infuriated the prince.

He walked over to her, his feet only centimeters from her head, bent over and looked down at her. Vegeta rolled his eyes when he saw that hers were closed, tears still streaming shamelessly down her cheeks. He blew a warm stream of air onto her face. Her eyes opened, quite shocked, and they grew even larger when she became aware of the source of the heat.

"Vegeta!" she said, sounding much more surprised than angry. She pulled her earbuds out. Vegeta moved out of the way so Bulma could stand, but she just sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest. Vegeta mentally sighed and walked around her so that he could get a good look of her face. He was so stunned that he blinked a few times too many.

"What the fuck do you want Vegeta?" His ears heard her words, but her tone was off. She sounded exhausted, empty, not angry or provocative. He studied her face intensely.

Her cheeks were sunken in, her hair stuck limply to her forehead, her eyebrows were noticeably unruly and her skin seemed to be translucent and closer to gray than porcelain white. But most of all, her eyes. They seem irreparably bloodshot, dark heavy bags loomed menacingly under them, and most noticeably her eyes well incredibly dull. Lifeless, blind and dry. It sent a familiar shiver down Vegeta's spine.

"Well?!" she said, again sounding more worn out than anything and lifting her head to glare at him. Though it looked more like she was wincing. Vegeta continued to mathematically scrutinize her face, but answered.

"You didn't fix the bots." he replied simply. Bulma nodded, but the movement made her dizzy and she quickly brought a hand to her head to stabilize herself.

"Could you sit down? Holding my head up hurts." she asked quietly and shamefully. Vegeta rolled his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and dropped fluidly into a sitting positing on the floors.

All was quiet. Bulma looked at the floor while Vegeta continued his ruthless staring of her face.

"How long?" he barked. She jumped at the tone.

"Well if I set to it now, I can probably have them fixed by 7 or 8 o'clock." she answered, tapping her finger on her chin. Vegeta growled and she coiled away from the frightening sound.

"I was asking about food. How long since you've eaten, woman?" he said, clearly aggravated that Bulma wasn't a thought-reader. Bulma's eyes shot up to meet his, shocked at his statement and his percept. He gave her a small head nod, indicating that she was to answer his question with haste.

She looked away from him once again. "About five days."

"That's absurd. Even for an Earthling. Why?" he responded coldly.

"It keeps coming back up." she replied while tracing shapes on the ground.

So he had been correct, Bulma was in fact quite ill.

"I haven't slept either. I've tried everything. I just can't." she continued.

Vegeta did not like the feeling of their conversation. He had come down here for a fight and to get what he wanted, but this was turning into another too close for comfort situation and it made him want to bolt. He simply sat silently, keeping his face stoic and not moving at all.

"I don't understand you," Bulma started, "I don't understand how you're still alive. I've only seen a glimpse of what your life must have been like. I know you've done terrible things, but warriors aren't broken for going to war. I know you're broken not because of the things that you did, but because of the things that were done to you."

Vegeta lost his grasp on control, and for a second shock was displayed on his hard features. He was certain he had deciphered a dark undertone to her statement, but a part of him was getting quite angry, and this part took the reins of his thoughts. She had no right to make such assumptions about him. She was calling him weak. Bulma chuckled darkly and resumed her monologue.

"And look at me. I've always had everything I've ever wanted. Anything that I wanted that didn't exist, I would create. People fall over themselves just to get a look at me. And then my boyfriend of ten years finds someone better than me, and I can't keep it together. I'm a mess without him. I never thought I would be reduced to something so childish. For a genius, I'm an idiot."

Vegeta couldn't help but crack a smirk when she repeated his words from so many weeks ago back to him. She seemed encouraged by his display of attentiveness and chuckled again.

"How do you do it? How are you so strong? I can't find the strength to eat or sleep, and yet you push on day after day with pride and courage that I'm sure all your people revere in the afterlife." Finally getting to the point of her confession, Vegeta was once again shocked at the immense compliment he had received. It made his stomach feel light. He noticed Bulma was staring at him expectantly, he was to answer her question.

"I train." he replied.

"What?!" she was surprised by the nonchalance of his answer.

"Training reminds me that I can always be stronger. Therefore I train." he repeated. Bulma seemed to mull over his answer and finally nodded.

She stood up and walked over to her desk. Vegeta followed suit, and with a quick glance he realized how all of her body was sunken in places it shouldn't be. She had lost a significant amount of weight in the last five days. Or perhaps she had slowly been losing weight over the past weeks, but he had made a point not to look at her too much, so he would never know. Bulma laid out a blueprint of the Capsule Corp compound and began sketching erratically. Vegeta didn't know if he was supposed to stay, but he always enjoyed watching her work so he stayed. There was an old comfort in standing next to Bulma that Vegeta realized he missed. He had worked so hard to shut down any thoughts relating to her, and it all turned out to be for nothing. She was in his presence for fifteen minutes and all he felt was relief. Stupid Kami-forsaken incomprehensibly frustrating relief. He was extraordinarily split, and there was nothing he could do about it. When she was away, he was split, when she was near he was split.

"Done." Bulma said. Vegeta noted that she still didn't sound excited or even awake. "What do you think, Vegeta?"

He peered down at the blueprints, not really knowing what had changed on them and gave a slow nod.

"Good. I'll get the contractors started on it tomorrow." Bulma looked up at Vegeta and he could feel the awkwardness set in.

"Vegeta, I..." she paused, a few seconds trickled by, but in the end she shook her head, "I think I'm going to try and get some sleep." Bulma said quietly, breaking their staring contest. Vegeta nodded again.

Bulma went to pick up her music player and began locking the various cabinets in the laboratory. When she was done, she headed for the door, Vegeta in tow. They both stepped out and Bulma struggled to pull the heavy door closed – something Vegeta knew she had never had a hard time doing before. She aptly locked the multiple locks and set the alarm. They made their way up the first flight of stairs, and while Bulma turned to head upstairs to the bedrooms, Vegeta stayed firmly planted in the living room. Bulma shot him an inquisitive look, shrugged and continued up to her room.

Vegeta went to work preparing a Saiyan-sized snack before making his way to bed, concentrating very hard on his sandwiches as too not let his thoughts attempt to decipher the third strange encounter he had with Bulma in the past month. After he ate, he was feeling quite sleepy and was happy to be able to have a soft, large bed to collapse on. Walking past Bulma's room on the way to his own, he could hear her sobbing loudly through the door and he doubted she would get any sleep that night.

* * *

Around 4am, Vegeta was awoken by a loud banging sound. He jumped out of bed and instinctively crouched into a defensive position. The banging was replaced by a deep rumbling sound that Vegeta could feel through his feet. He didn't hear anything that sounded like screams for help or yelps of pain so he took a moment to throw on some pants and darted out of his bedroom. He followed the sound of the rumbling to what he had come to know as an entertainment space in the first basement of the living quarters of the Capsule Corporation. There was a handful of men carrying various objects that Vegeta could not identify with Bulma standing in the middle of the room delegating.

"Woman! What is the meaning of this ruckus! Get these people out of here so I can sleep!" he bellowed over the sound of the banging, which had started up again.

"Oh screw off Vegeta! I have shit to do. Go sleep in the woods, monkey brains!" Bulma hollered back.

The familiarity of the situation made a nearly complete smile etch itself across Vegeta's face, but of course it was laced with malicious intent. Bulma turned to face the hot-headed prince, who looked positively alluring at this moment in time.

"I have no time for this nonsense. Out. Everyone get out or I'll blast you into the next dimension." he shouted at all the workers in the small room. The workers stopped, taking the threat from the menacing man who stood before them quite seriously. Bulma laughed.

"Don't listen to him, get back to work or I'll have your jobs. He's just moody because he needs his beauty sleep." The workers considered Bulma's words a much more hefty threat and scrambled back to their business. Vegeta was fuming.

"Woman, I do not play games. Get these imbeciles out of my sight this instant!" he said marching over to her. She turned to face him.

"For your information Vegeta," she poked him in the chest, "This is all your fault. You said you train to get stronger, so I'm gonna train too. This is going to be my personal training room!" Bulma exclaimed gleefully.

"And you couldn't wait until I was awake because...?" Vegeta asked angrily. Bulma's face fell and she looked at the ground.

"Couldn't sleep." she mumbled. Vegeta nodded, and there was once again a small pang of guilt in his chest.

"You need to see a doctor." he blurted out suddenly, surprising both members of the conversation.

"No I don't." Bulma denied, shaking her head softly.

"Listen to me," Vegeta try to sound soft, but all he could think of was how harsh it sounded compared to Kakarot, "I've seen people fall apart. I know what will happen to you if you don't get some sleep soon. For one goddamn time woman, listen to me." Vegeta was now grasping her shoulders, and he could feel how fragile she had become. Bulma began blinking repeatedly, attempting to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. After a few too many seconds of silence and some curious looks from the workers, Vegeta shook Bulma to regain her attention. She sucked in a deep breath.

"The last time I had a good night's sleep was when you were in my bed, Vegeta." she said calmly. Vegeta quickly remove his hands from her, as if he had touched something white hot. He took a reflexive step back, but Bulma took a step forward.

"You make me feel safe, and that scares me." she continued, now looking Vegeta in the face. His breath was caught in his throat, his heart was beating too fast, so he said nothing.

"You're still tired, I can tell. I haven't slept in days," she placed her hand on his bare chest and took a deep breath, "Why don't you come lay next to me? Just so I can feel safe enough to fall asleep. Then you can go."

Vegeta felt a strange burst in his chest that he could not comprehend. It was filled with temptation, longing, lust, anger, fear and joy. Bulma could sense his hesitation, and in hopes of coaxing his acquiescence she placed her head gently on his chest, next to her hand. As he had done before, he reached out to run a small strand of hair through his fingers. This time it felt dry and brittle and he was thrown back into reality. He pushed her away so fast she stumbled and had to brace herself on a wall to stop from falling over. Hurt splashed along the tired features of Bulma's face, and Vegeta regretted not being more restrictive with strength.

"I'll walk you back to your room. That is all." he finally complied, offering a small compromise. Bulma gave him a gratified smile. He crossed his arms and motion for her to leave.

"Okay everyone," she shouted to the small group of laborers, "You can come back in six hours, we'll continue then." They all smiled happily and one of them even shouted in joy. They made their way out of the small basement space, closely followed by Bulma and Vegeta.

As promised, he led her back to her room. She bid him goodnight and stepped into the room that had failed to offer any comfort in the last month. Bulma felt strangely calm as she removed her heavy clothing and threw on an oversized t-shirt. She slipped into the covers of her luxurious bed and blissfully found sleep.

* * *

Six hours later, an alarm rang and woke an extremely exhausted Bulma from her delectable encounter with Hypnos. She crawled painfully out of her bed and redressed in the clothes she had left on the floor. When she opened her bedroom door, a gasp of mixed emotions left her mouth.

Before her sat a sleeping Saiyan Prince Vegeta, his back to the wall, arms crossed and still dressed in his sweatpants. His head was slightly drooping and a light snore was emitted from deep within his chest. Bulma smiled widely, and bounced down the stairs to make breakfast for her friend turned protector.

* * *

A/N: Aww, so a little bit of fluff to finish it off. I was also wanting some feedback on Chapter 4, I got a significantly lesser number of reviews for that one. Did it feel off? Someone let me know if it really needs to be revamped. Or was it that Bulma got her memories back - that was never meant to be the main plot, it was just another building block that is the complicated painting of the BV relationship.

If I could get to 50 reviews before the next chapter, I might die of happiness. Midterms and papers are coming up, so it might be around a month until I update again. Please don't throw things! I'll do my best to get something out before then!

Until we meet again.


	6. Chapter 6 - Dreams and Demands

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm FINALLY back with a new chapter. I am so, so sorry. This was supposed to be released over 3 weeks ago, when I was on break from school. I was incredibly sick for the entire break and I've been swamped trying to catch up on my school work. This is a transition chapter, just a bit of light interactions and reflections twinged with humour. Next chapter things will finally start to break apart.

**THANK YOU FOR ALL THE WONDERFUL REVIEWS!** I read each and every one of them, they make me so very happy. I was able to reach the 50 review milestone on the day after I posted the last chapter. I am so incredibly thankful and humbled.

Without anymore delay, please enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

_Because of you,_

_My mind is always racing,_

_And it gets under my skin._

-Three Days Grace

* * *

"_Vegeta." A gentle voice beckoned him. Vegeta stirred slightly but didn't wake. He was unable to identify the owner of the voice. _

"_Vegeta, wake up my little prince." the voice pressed. Vegeta slowly cracked open his eyes and looked around the room. His tail attempted to move his troublesome bangs out of his eyes to see better. His eyes widened. _

'_A tail? My bangs? What the hell is going on?' he thought. He bounded out of the bed and ran towards an elegant mirror placed in the back of the room. His reflection stared back at him. But it wasn't really him, it was a sight he thought he had forgotten long ago. _

_His tiny hands pressed up against the long mirror, taking in the lack of stress lines on his face and the subtle pink colouring in his cheeks. His tail danced lazily behind all three feet of him, as if it wasn't quite awake yet. He ran his fingers across his bangs and tugged on them to assure that they were truly stuck to his head. The woman who had awoken him laughed. He turned to her to demand an explanation, but said nothing as a pair of cerulean eyes dove into his black abysses._

"_Bu...Bulma?" he whispered. It wasn't loud enough for her to hear._

_Her hair must have been quite long, because it was piled high on her head in a very classy bun, with various long, curly strands purposely falling from it. Nestled on the bun was a sparkling crystal tiara that reflected all the hues of her hair beautifully. She was dressed in a wine coloured gown. It was long, mermaid style dress that accentuated every part of Bulma that didn't need accentuating. She looked radiant, like a queen. _

"_You've slept a bit too long today, little prince. Best hurry up and get ready. Your father will not have his heir late for his own party." Bulma said while ushering him into a small bathroom. "Quickly clean yourself, I'll set out your formal armor." she added._

_Confused and slightly dazed, Vegeta did as he was told, his mind reeling. Where was he? How did he get there? Why was Bulma babying him? And what was he do to when he saw his father?_

_When he stepped out of his room, dressed in a set of armor he had chose to forget existed, Bulma followed closely behind him. Vegeta marvelled at the enormous hallways, made from stone tinged with red, all seemingly decorated for a party._

'_My party.' he repeated Bulma's words in his mind. _

_Bulma led him through various passages and rooms, all packed with Saiyans who bowed low to him as he passed. Finally, Bulma stopped in front of two enormous doors adorned with the Royal Symbol of Vegetasei. He heard an instrument sound off, and a loud voice announced the arrival of the Queen and crowned Prince of Vegetasei. Vegeta looked around nervously to spot the Queen, for surely it would be proper if she entered before he and Bulma. He grabbed onto Bulma's hand in hopes of nonverbally telling her to wait for the queen, but she simply smiled down at him and when the doors opened, she began to walk with the young prince in tow. _

_He made a hissing sound a quickly retracted his hand, Bulma giggled at his stubbornness. The large crowed bowed silently as they made their way across the room. Vegeta finally looked towards the end of the room and saw three thrones, one which was occupied by his father. Anger seethed inside him and he almost lunged for the older man's throat when the king suddenly stood up and began to walk towards them. _

_This is when Vegeta realized that he was not looking at his own father. This King Vegeta was quite a bit shorter, clearly stronger and had a much harder face. He was looking into his own, true face. King Vegeta met Bulma in the middle of the room and she laced her arm around his. Vegeta blinked, now thoroughly confused. He stopped walking as the couple continued. Bulma quickly noticed and turned her head back to him and motioned for him to keep up. The three of them made their way to the thrones and Bulma took the one to the left of King Vegeta. Then it finally made sense to him_

_It was Bulma, it had always been. She was the Queen of Vegetasei. His mate, his queen. And apparently she was also the mother to his heir, whose body he currently inhabited. The King stood up to speak._

"_Welcome everyone. This is a celebration of my son, your prince and heir to the throne. Today marks the tenth year since his birth." the crowd cheered for the long life of their prince, "However, the Queen and I have something else to celebrate on this day." The King paused and smirked as Bulma rose from her throne to join him, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks. _

"_I'm pregnant!" Bulma exclaimed joyfully. She folded her hands affectionately over her midsection, and a large Saiyan hand quickly followed. Bulma smiled at her king. The guests cheers and rushed to congratulate the couple as well as wish the young prince a happy birthday. _

_Vegeta sat shocked at what had developed before him. Not understanding what was going on and not really caring to. This life was amazing. He told himself if he would wish for anything, he would wish for what he saw right now. _

"Vegeta?" a new voice called from afar. It was his Bulma. "Come on, Veggie. I made pancakes and bacon."

Vegeta woke, startled. He looked at his hand. It was large and callous again.

"Don't call me that." he mumbled. Bulma giggled. He wanted to protest more, but the smell of bacon permeated through the entire house and was calling him to the kitchen. He lifted himself of the floor and stretched out his stiff back.

"I slept." Bulma said, as she followed him down the stairs. Vegeta just nodded, partially because he already knew that and partially because he was still rather lost in thought.

They made their way slowly to the kitchen, were a Saiyan-sized breakfast was laid out for Vegeta to devour. He sat down and quickly started to eat. Bulma peeled an orange and began to eat it.

"I dreamt I could fly." she said, making small talk.

"I dreamt you were Queen of Vegetasei." Vegeta replied while helping himself to a third plate. Bulma coughed on her orange. She quirked an eyebrow at him and smiled. Though her curiosity was gnawing at her, she decided not to press for more information, seeing as they were finally making a bit of progress in healing of their relationship.

Before the silence had time to become awkward, the doorbell announced a guest had arrived. Bulma left to answer it. As soon as she opened the door, Vegeta knew the person was a man and for a reason he couldn't place, this quite irked him. He finished off his plate and went to where Bulma was making light conversation with the stranger.

"Vegeta! This is Jeffrey, he's going to be helping me train." Bulma explained, introducing the man.

Vegeta crossed his arms and inspected the so-called trainer. He was a couple years older than himself, he was probably considered fit for a human, but he smelled of too many aromas, most of which were unnatural. Vegeta wrinkled his nose, but decided to let it go and just walk away. He could hear Bulma apologizing for his rudeness as he went.

On his days off, he had a few spots where he liked to rest, but one usually won out over the others, and that was the Capsule Corp Library. Its vast collection held all sorts of tomes. Ranging from children's tales to advanced scientific journals. He had started with a quick literature review of human history, but he got through it rather fast and was now in the process of reading all the murder-mystery novels. Last week, he had finished his book, so he had to choose a new one. He combed the shelves until he found something that caught his eye. He settled on a long chair in the sun and began to read.

* * *

A couple hours later, Vegeta rose from his lounger and made his way back to the kitchen to have a bite to eat. He found Bulma, the trainer and Mrs. Briefs all huddle around the kitchen table looking at various papers. He peered over Bulma's should to get a better look. They seemed to be diagrams of exercises or some nonsense.

"Why don't you pull up a chair, Vegeta? I could use your expertise." Bulma sounded.

The slight ego boost he received could have been enough for him to oblige her, but he simply walked over to the fridge and started rummaging through it. Mrs. Briefs quickly rose from her seat to throw together some of the leftovers she had prepared for him. Vegeta poured himself a large glass of juice and sat down across from Bulma while he waited for his meal to finish heating.

"What's all this crap?" he asked, eyeing the small pile of diagram filled pages.

"We're designing a workout routine for Miss Briefs. We're putting it together specifically for the areas of her body she wishes to work and to accommodate any of the health goals she has." the Jeffrey "trainer" added. Vegeta didn't really like this man.

"You've eaten today, woman?" Vegeta said harshly to Bulma. The trainer simply looked stunned at his utter rudeness and disrespect for the most powerful woman on planet Earth. Mrs. Briefs set down Vegeta's lunch in front of him, and hummed a tune as she went to clean up.

"Well," Bulma put her finger on her chin pensively, "I had that orange this morning."

"Maybe you should start by teaching her to properly feed herself before trying to make her run." Vegeta said rolling his eyes and then dug into his food. Bulma's face flushed.

"Well Miss Briefs," the trainer said after clearing his throat, "I'm satisfied with our current plan, if you're ready to proceed we can start the first lesson."

"Okay, sure." Bulma replied, nodding, "I'll go get changed." She left the two men in silence. The tension was palpable.

Jeffrey leaned slightly towards Vegeta, but jumped back when a very loud growl was generated from deep within the Saiyan's chest. The trainer looked at Vegeta incredulously, and Vegeta kept eating without missing a beat. Thankfully, Bulma returned, all dressed in stylish black and blue workout clothing. The trainer thought she looked amazing, Vegeta thought she needed to go back upstairs and sleep more.

"Alright Jeffrey, just follow me. We can use the upstairs Rec room for today. The contractors should be done the studio by tomorrow." Bulma instructed. The trainer hastily grabbed his papers and followed very closely behind Bulma.

'What a wimp.' Vegeta thought. Though he was enjoying his current novel, perhaps bothering Bulma would prove to be a much more entertaining feat. He cleaned his plate in all haste, and silently followed behind the pair.

When he walked into the Rec room, Bulma was being measured around the hips by the man. She gasped loudly at his intrusion and the trainer dropped the measuring tape.

"Vegeta! Will you get out of here!" Bulma seethed.

"You said you wanted my expertise, so here I am." Vegeta replied, smirking darkly.

"Sir, this is a private session. If Miss Briefs doesn't want you here, you have to leave." the trainer said.

Vegeta diverted his dark gaze to the man, who began to shake slightly. He had enough of this snobby, funny smelling human, and he most certainly was not going to take orders from this fraud of a trainer.

"You are so full of shit. You know just as much as well as I do that she is in no condition to be doing any sort of training. You're measuring her? It better be to make sure she gains weight, because if she loses anymore, she'll break. You are just looking to make good money off someone who is vulnerable." Vegeta began to growl again.

"Vegeta..." Bulma whispered from the other end of the room.

"Be quiet woman." he shot angrily at her, and then redirected his attention to the useless man, "And you. Let's see if you're worth a cent of this woman's money. Fight me."

The trainer's complexion lightened considerably. Vegeta sank into his fighting position, and Jeffrey took a step back.

"M-m-miss Briefs!" he squeaked. No aid was given to the terrified man.

"I said fight me, you worthless piece of trash." Vegeta taunted. Thoroughly insulated and ashamed, the trainer attempted to imitate Vegeta's stance. Vegeta laughed.

"You have no idea how to fight. You're a coward and a liar. You don't train people to help themselves, you train them to help yourself. Get out of my sight." Vegeta spat.

The man, however, stood his ground and did not budge. Vegeta quirked an eyebrow at him and proceeded to take a deep breath, locating the strongest false scent the man was giving off, lifted his finger and aimed a small blast right on the top of the man's head. Bulma screeched painfully. The man's hair was now on fire and Vegeta smirked triumphantly over him. Bulma was rushing over to help the poor man her houseguest had assaulted, but stopped when the man successfully ripped his hair from his head, tossed it on the ground and began stepping on it to suffocate the small flame.

Vegeta and Bulma both stared at the scene in front of them, both rather shocked by the trainer's ability to remove his hair.

"You're wearing a toupee?!" Bulma exclaimed, now feeling kinda grossed out by Jeffrey.

The trainer picked up the tuft of false hair from the ground, now that it was no longer flaming. His faced was flushed, partly because of anger and partly because of embarrassment.

"This is absolutely outrageous. I refused to be treated this way. I am annulling your contract Miss Briefs, and I will be pressing charges against this violent man as soon as I leave." Jeffrey announced snidely.

"Oh is that so? I encourage you to try. You know just as well as I do that my lawyer will tear your lawyer limb from limb, with a smile on his face. Figuratively, of course. If I _really_ want to tear your lawyer limb from limb, I'd just send Vegeta to do it." Bulma retaliated.

"I am not a dog, woman."

"Shut up Vegeta!"

"Don't push it, woman."

"My name is BULMA!"

"Could have fooled me. Bulma can smell a fraud a mile away. You're just a cheap copy." And with his final word said, Vegeta turned and left the room in order to return to his novel. He was about halfway up the stairs when he heard Bulma sob loudly.

* * *

After he heard Capsule Corp security none too gently escort the trainer off the property, Vegeta was able to retrieve his lounger and simply get lost in his book. He was about a third through the novel when a small knock was heard on the door. To his surprise, it was Dr. Briefs.

"Well hello there, son. I was hoping I could ask a small favour of you." the doctor asked, peering over his thick glasses.

Vegeta was a little surprised that the doctor had such a request for him. He had to admit that he felt somewhat indebted to the man. The Briefs had opened their home to him, provided him everything he needed to train, food, a bed, and nursed him back to health after he destroyed their spaceship. He checked the page number of his book, closed it and stood up. Dr. Briefs took this as a sign to continue.

"There is a particularly heavy piece of equipment we've been working on and I would like to complete the project tonight, but none of my employees can seem to lift it for long enough to set it properly." he explained. Vegeta nodded.

"Ah very good. I must say, I'm awfully glad you're around Vegeta. Could use a good man like you around here more often." Dr. Briefs said as he headed out the library's large door.

Vegeta was glad that the doctor's back was turned, because he didn't need anyone to see the effect the doctor's words were having on him. His face was contorted into a strange mixture of confusion, shock and there were signs of joy etched around his eyes. First Bulma, and now Dr. Briefs. Both members of this bizarre family had expressed their appreciation of him. Well, he supposed that Mrs. Briefs had also said she appreciated him, but in a way that sent tingles of horror down his spine. What was with these people? He hadn't been among Earthlings long enough to know if this extreme disregard for someone's murderous tendencies was normal, but the Briefs family was making it clear that they had no problems with him. Ultimately, confusion won and this was the expression plastered on his face as he followed Dr. Briefs through the various labs of Capsule Corp.

"Ah here we go! This is the piece." Dr. Briefs announced as he hit his knuckles against a strange contraption that was set on the floor. "What do you think, Vegeta? Can you lift it?"

Vegeta eyed the device momentarily, and then picked it up with one hand. Several pens around the lab dropped, as did many jaws.

"Where do you want it?" Vegeta said, not really liking the awed looks he was getting. The doctor chuckled, and mumbled how he should have known.

"Do you think you could hold it up so I could attach its lower half?" the doctor asked. Vegeta just nodded and took to the air, hovering about two meters off the ground. This act earned him many gasps and even one scream.

"Stop gawking at the man and get to work!" Dr. Briefs bellowed. Vegeta was impressed with his authority as many employees scrambled to prepare the lower half of the contraption. Within five minutes, Dr. Briefs kindly asked Vegeta to lower the top half onto its stand. Vegeta complied, and the doctor quickly bolted it into place.

"Nice work Vegeta. I never pegged you as the helpful type." Bulma sounded from the doorway. Vegeta floated down towards her, his feet touching the ground soundlessly.

How long exactly had she been standing there? Vegeta's left eye twitched in annoyance. As he walked past her on the way to the staircase, she grabbed his arm. He turned his head and glared at her.

"Hey, thanks. You know, for earlier today." Bulma confessed sheepishly, "Though you didn't have to be so harsh."

"To you or to him?" Vegeta asked, while dislodging his arm from her grip.

"Well, both I suppose." Bulma shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I saw you following Daddy, I was just curious."

"Hn." Vegeta continued his trek up the stairs.

"How did you know? About the toupee? I couldn't tell at all!" Bulma said, while trying her best to follow the Saiyan's pace. She was quickly out of breath.

"I could smell it. There was a terribly foul odour on his head, so I shot at it." Vegeta confessed, shrugging. Bulma laughed.

"Well, since I haven't got a trainer anymore, and you've got nothing better to do, wanna watch a movie with me?" Bulma called to him, a few steps behind.

"No."

"Oh come on Vegeta! You owe me!" she lamented.

"How so?" he countered.

"You chased off my trainer! If you had left well enough alone, I'd be busy not bothering you." she replied, grinning. Vegeta sighed.

"Are you saying that you're going to keep bothering me until I accept your ridiculous request?"

"Pretty much." Bulma was grinning even larger now. Vegeta sighed again and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Fine. Whatever. As long as you order pizza." he paused, "And you have to eat some!" he added as he stomped off towards the living room. He could hear Bulma giggling behind him.

* * *

"So any objections to The Lion King?" Bulma asked as she shuffled through her vast Disney collection. She was regressing, and this situation called for Disney.

"What's it about?" Vegeta asked as he began chomping on his third slice of pizza. Bulma wondered how to explain it to him, without it sounding ridiculous.

"Well, it's about this prince whose father is murdered and his clan gets taken over by his evil uncle, who forces everyone to do his bidding. The prince gets run out of his land and spends most of the rest his life with two buffoons." Bulma explained, her face scrunched. Vegeta chocked on his pizza and stared at her incredulously.

"Is that some kind of joke?!" he exclaimed.

"What? No! That's the gist of what happens." Bulma replied, feeling rather confused. "It's a kid's story Vegeta, relax." she said as she popped in the movie. Vegeta glared harshly at her as she took a seat next to him. The opening credits started to role.

"What's wrong with the picture?" Vegeta asked.

"What do you mean?" Bulma answered as she pulled a wool blanket over her legs.

"It looks different from the other things I've seen on the television. Everything is fake." Vegeta clarified, scrutinizing the screen.

"Oh! It's animated. Basically, they draw each scene piece by piece and then put them together at the end. It's just a different way of doing things. Take it with a grain of salt, most animated children's stories are not exactly representative of the real world." Bulma explained. She looked at Vegeta and she began to realize how different her life had been from his. He didn't even know what a cartoon was.

"Eat." he ordered. Bulma was surprised at the use of such a harsh tone, but smiled because it was his way of showing concern for her. She happily obliged him and threw a slice of pizza on a plate. Vegeta grunted approvingly.

Once Vegeta was satiated, he slouched comfily into the cushy pillows of the large couch. His back was against the arm rest, with his arm lightly propping up his head and his legs stretched out. Bulma was at the other end of the sofa, her arms tightly wound around a small pillow and her knees folded close to her chest.

Vegeta thought the movie might have been one of the most ridiculous things he had seen. Not only do the animals talk, they sing. _They sing! _He did not even bat an eye when the king died, even though Bulma was balling.

"Stop crying. It isn't even close to real." he said, rolling his eyes at her.

"I know it's not real Vegeta," she responded quietly, "It's the idea."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, "What idea?"

"I mean, how would you feel if your dad died because of you?" The words escaped her mouth before she had time to realize what she said. She quickly covered her mouth.

Vegeta's eyes narrowed considerably, and his relaxed posture reverted to its guarded form. He sat up straight.

"Vegeta, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Bulma blurted out, her eyes still shining with tears.

"Shut up. Just stop talking." Vegeta said through clenched teeth.

The room suddenly got very warm, and Bulma could see a faint glow of ki drawing itself over Vegeta's skin. Though she knows he would want no such thing, Bulma was overwhelmed with sadness for the prince. She had been privy to some information about his childhood, but she had never thought it might still haunt him. She crawled over the sofa towards him, and watching his face intently, she reached out and placed bother her hands over one of his clenched fist.

Vegeta's head whipped towards her, and she could see the contours of his jaws contracting in agitation, but she didn't pull away. She looked into his eyes and she studied them intensely. They were so black, she was sure they would not relinquish even a single token of information to her, but there it was. Just the littlest hesitation, just a slight moment of apprehension. And it was only written in his eyes. Bulma inhaled sharply, unsure if she had been allowed to see the prince's moment of weakness, or if he had finally slipped up. Of perhaps she was getting to know him well enough that she was working through his barriers.

She didn't know.

"Vegeta," she beckoned him back to the present, "Vegeta, I'm sorry. I..." Bulma was unable to finish her apology due her cell phone suddenly ringing. She sighed loudly, but removed her hands from Vegeta and walked over to the coffee table to retrieve her phone.

While Bulma texted furiously on her phone, Vegeta was slowly calming himself.

'She didn't mean it.' he thought. 'How could she? She knows nothing.' He was reassuring himself.

He ran his fingers through his hair, sighed loudly and then let himself slouch back into couch. Years of torment by Frieza and his lackeys had made him immune to emotional responses caused by the subject of his father's death. Or so he thought. One small jab, from a woman who knew nothing of him nonetheless, had caused his anger and guilt to resurface.

"Hey Vegeta?" Bulma called back to him, while still staring intensely at her phone, waiting for a reply to her message.

"Hn."

"Wanna do something fun?" Bulma asked coyly. Vegeta was lying to himself, refusing to admit that her tone of voice was incredibly alluring.

"Do I get to kill the weakling?" Vegeta replied, trying his best to look bored. Bulma laughed loudly.

"Oh, how sweet of you to offer! But I think I can take care of that." she replied. Vegeta smirked.

"How about I make you a deal? If you take tonight to come learn about human culture, I'll let you punch Yamcha in the face whenever I see fit." Bulma proposed. She was positively giddy.

Vegeta frowned. "It sounds to me like you win in both cases. You're terrible at bargaining woman." he said mockingly, "And exactly which part of _human culture _would you like me to explore?" he spat, his face scrunched as if he had smelled something putrid.

"There is this place in the city. I used to go there quite a bit, but I haven't been in ages. It's a secret. Only the most prestigious of people are allowed in." she paused, "It's like an exclusive club, for society's elites."

Vegeta's ears picked up the words _prestigious _and _elites_.

"If I agree, I want you to upgrade the gravity machine, a complete overhaul. I want a bookshelf in my room," he stopped and Bulma looked confused by his second, and rather odd, request, "and I want to be able to punch the weakling whenever I see fit." he concluded, smirking darkly. Bulma looked pensive.

"Bookshelf is no problem. If I completely overhaul the gravity machine, it will be out of commission for weeks. I'll gradually replace the electronics and reinforce the framing so you can still use it most of the time. And you can only punch Yamcha if I'm around to see it." she replied, grinning with a tint of malice in her blue eyes.

Vegeta chuckled, but conceded with a quick nod of the head. Bulma squealed joyfully.

"We'll leave around 8. I'll call to get a car ready for us. Now I'm going to take a nap so I'll be full force tonight." Bulma declared, her fingers once again flitting effortlessly across her phone. She left the room without another word.

Vegeta remained sitting on the couch as the movie continued to play before him. All of a sudden he felt incredibly stupid. How the hell did he get sucked into this type of thing again? He sighed.

This was shaping out to be the worst day off ever.

* * *

A/N: So Bulma and Vegeta are going out next chapter. Ahh, this next chapter coming up is the one I've been ruminating since the beginning of the story.

I'd love to promise a swift next chapter, but it's my very last semester of university and I want to go out with a bang. I'm really concentrating on school, but I promise every moment of free time that I'm not sleeping, I will be working on this. I will finish it, even if it takes a while.

Also! If you're on twitter, feel free to follow me! laura_gally14 is my handle. I will update about any work I'm doing on the story and tweet about things that are relevant in my life. I'm not an avid twitter user, so I won't fill up your feed with nonsense, promise.

I can't wait to hear from you guys! Please review :)


	7. Chapter 7 - Heirs and Hatred

A/N: Hello all! I am FINALLY back with a new chapter! Good news! I have officially completed my degree, so no more school and I have secured a good job in my field of study. This is great for you guys, because with all the stress gone, I can finally concentrate on my story. Chapters will now be out on a more regular basis, no more of this waiting months for me to update! YAY!

Thank you to everyone who has stuck by me with this story, even with my terrible update schedule. Also, from the bottom of my heart THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR WONDERFUL REVIEWS.

This chapter unleashes the beast of the story, it's an important one. There is also another dream sequence in this chapter, look for italicized areas.

WARNING: There is violence and description of violent thoughts in this chapter.

Without further delay, here is the 7th instalment of **For Every Action.**

Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall Z and all songs belong to their rightful proprietors.

* * *

_It took so long to see  
You walked away from me  
When I need you_

_Wake up, I'm pounding on the door  
I'm not the man I was before  
Where the hell are you,  
When I need you_

- Three Days Grace

Bulma emerged from her bedroom many hours later, slightly more rested and all done up for her night out. She wore a one-sleeved purple dress that hugged her body closely and a shiny black pump with a polka-dot bow on the toe. Her legs were bare and looked smooth and soft. Her hair was clipped behind her head and her short bangs now framed her face. Her make-up was tasteful, with a dark brown eyeshadow and deep red lipstick, and she carried a silver clutch lined with sparkling rubies.

She walked into the walked into living room to find Vegeta slumped over the couch, dozing. His face was scrunched uncomfortably, and he wondered if what she had said earlier was still troubling him. She wacked him in the chest, none to gently, with her clutch. Vegeta leaped surprisingly high from the sofa and sunk into a defensive crouch immediately. Bulma rolled her eyes, but inside she felt a bit sad that Vegeta's first reaction to being startled was so calculated. She wondered if he would ever be comfortable enough to not feel like he was being attacked every time someone surprised him.

"Wake up Veggie. We're about to leave." Bulma huffed at him, "You're not even dressed. Ugh, come on. Let's go find you something to wear." She grabbed his forearm and lead him back upstairs. Vegeta instantly drew his arm back.

"I am not a child, woman. I do not need you to dress me." he said while scowling deeply. He was cranky because she was able to sneak up on him.

"If you don't wear the right clothes they won't let you in, Vegeta. Just take my word for it, let me pick out something. If you don't like it, I'll try and find something else." Bulma replied, irritated.

They reached Vegeta's bedroom, and Bulma threw her clutch on his dresser and went straight to his closet. As she began to filter through his clothes, she noticed that they were very different from Yamcha's clothing. She sighed loudly, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in her chest that arose each and every time she thought of Yamcha. She quickly grabbed a pair of black dress pants and a dark blue polo shirt. It was similar in colour to his under-armor, so she figured Vegeta would like it.

She silently handed him her picks, and he stared at her, trying to make out the expression on her face. It was a strange mix of longing and anger. Bulma simply walked back into the closet and closed the door, in order to let Vegeta change. He did so swiftly and called her back into his room. She gasped.

She wanted to say that he looked handsome, because he did. She wanted to say that he almost looked human, except for his hair, because he did. She wanted to tell him to never, ever cut his hair, because it's what truly made him unique and Saiyan. But something else had captured her attention, and she couldn't help but point it out.

"Vegeta," she paused, "You've _grown_." Bulma kneeled onto the carpet and looked closer at the hem of Vegeta's pants. They were nearly two inches above where they should be. The pants had been specifically tailor to fit Vegeta perfectly.

"I'll be right back." Bulma said, and she left the room in search of her mother's sewing tools.

Vegeta stepped into the closet and walked right up to the mirror at the very back of the closet. He never really looks at his body in a mirror, and if he does, it's usually from the shoulders up. He scrutinized his own reflection and his eyes widened when he realized that Bulma was in fact correct. His growth had been severely stunted in his early teens due to poor nourishment and lack of sleep. He had gained a little more than two inches in height, his cheeks were fuller, and his hair was quite shiny. He tried to hide the small smirk that crept onto his face, but he simply couldn't. He was thrilled to have his body attempting to compensate for lost years. Now if only his tail would grow back...

Bulma interrupted his self-scrutiny as she quickly returned with a small sewing tool that Vegeta did not have a name for. She kneeled down and began ripping the stitches from the hem of his pants. Satisfied with her handy work, Bulma unrolled the hem and fixed it properly over the Saiyan's ankles.

"There." she said happily, leading them out of the closet, "All done. Now pick out a nice pair of shoes and let's get out of here."

"What? You aren't going to pick them out for me?" Vegeta chirped at her mockingly.

"Oh Vegeta, I'm sure a grown man such as yourself can accomplish this small feat." Bulma threw back to him.

"I most certainly can. I just shouldn't have to, since I have a servant to do that for me." Vegeta replied, smirking as Bulma's face flushed with anger.

"You know what? Fine. FINE! I'll get some shoes for you." she sneered as she marched back into the closet.

Within seconds, shoes starting flying out of the closet seemingly aimed for Vegeta's head. He chuckled softly as he easily dodged the incoming projectiles. He snatched two matching boots out of the air when they flew past him. They were the same boots he wore to the Capsule Corp charity event. He crouched down and fit them to his feet, as various other footwear continued to fly over his head. As soon as he finished lacing his boot, an out-of-breath Bulma emerged from his closet. Her body was shaking with the exertion of throwing hordes of footwear. Vegeta noted that her dress looked rather loose around her ribs, and seem to not quite fit her hips properly. He frowned lightly. There was just no way she was going to be able to keep working if she didn't learn how to feed herself.

"Next time don't make such a mess, servant." he mocked.

"I am not your servant!" Bulma called back, thoroughly enraged and seriously questioning why exactly she was taking Vegeta out.

Vegeta decided he would stop goading her, since he had clearly won that round. Seeing that he was backing off, Bulma lead them towards the front door where a driver was patiently waiting to take the rich heiress and her guest wherever she wanted to go. They passed Mrs. Briefs on the way out, she was humming a song and knitting happily.

As soon as they stepped into the dark of night, Vegeta could feel his blood heat. A small bead of sweat ran down the nape of his neck and he could feel an intense pressure in the bottom of his spine. He instinctively looked up at the clear evening sky; the moon was full tonight. His body violently shuddered against his will, and of this Bulma took notice. She followed his visual trajectory to take notice of the moon. She was reminded that even though Vegeta could almost pass for an Earthling right now, he was very much still part animal. She was learning a lot about the prince today.

"Vegeta?" she called to him. Her sing-song voice pulled him from his trance.

"What?" he barked back, still feeling very physically activated and also slightly distracted.

"We're ready, let's go." Bulma replied softly, as if she was afraid to provoke him into a primal rage. Vegeta simply nodded and followed her as she climbed into a long, black limousine.

Things were quiet for the ride to the mysterious club. Vegeta worked on calming his body and Bulma furiously tried to make her bangs stay where she wanted them. After about 15 minutes of driving, the car came to a complete stop. The driver opened the door and Bulma graciously left the vehicle closely followed by Vegeta.

His senses were heightened, still being directly in the path of moonlight. He could smell every human within a 20 kilometer radius, and everything seemed to be rather slowed down. He kept his nose trained on Bulma in order to stay focused and calm. Bulma kindly thanked the driver, tipped him excessively and began to walk down a narrow pathway between two high-rise brick buildings. She counted the bricks on the wall to her left, until she reached the 23rd brick. She pried it from its spot, revealing a small blue button. She pressed it.

Almost instantly, the ground a few feet away from them opened, revealing a set of metal stairs. Vegeta eyed the hole suspiciously, not really being a fan of being underground for lengthy periods of time. Of course, he would not let Bulma perceive his discomfort, and followed closely behind her when she began to walk down the stairs. After the stairs, was a long corridor, lined with purple lights that made Vegeta's vision a bit fuzzy. They also gave him the impression that Bulma was glowing.

Finally, they reached a large metal door. Next to it was a tiny pin pad, adorned with letters and other various symbols. Bulma's dainty fingers effortlessly entered the appropriate pass code, and they were allowed entry. The door opened to a circular stair case, which they went about descending, the clinking of Bulma's shoes ringing in Vegeta's ears.

At the end of the stair case stood a man. He was quite large for a human, Vegeta noted. He was very muscular and tall, though Vegeta did not at all feel intimidated by him.

"Bulma! It's been so long, how've you been?" the big man chimed as soon as he could make out who was approaching.

"Cole! Hi! It's so nice to see you. I've been doing alright. How about you?" Bulma replied politely.

"Oh you know, same old, same old." Cole answered. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Vegeta standing a few feet behind Bulma. "Who's this? Security?" he pried.

Vegeta took a predatory step forward, a low growling emitting from deep within his chest. He opened his mouth to tell this asshole _exactly _who he was, but to his great surprise, Bulma beat him to it.

"Cole! He is absolutely not security! How dare you insult him." Bulma fumed at the man, her finger pointed accusingly into his large chest, "This is Vegeta, _Prince of All Saiyans._"

Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the doorman, trying to hide the strange stirring of pride he was feeling with hearing Bulma refer to him by his proper title. And using it as evidence of his prestige and not mockingly.

"Well I've never heard of him," Cole replied, "And you know the rule, Bulma. If I haven't heard of him, he doesn't get in."

Bulma stomped her foot angrily on the ground, much like a child, and waved her finger angrily

"You'll remember him when he's blowing your stupid face off!" Bulma shouted, exasperated.

Cole scrunched his large features into confusion and opened his mouth to question Bulma's threat, but he closed it quickly when he saw the small ball of ki Vegeta had formed in the palm of his hand. It glowed an ominous blue that made all of Vegeta's features look even more pointed and sinister.

"I suggest you let the woman do as she pleases." Vegeta stated simply. His quiet words and solid stance made the threat that much more terrifying. He was growing aggravated with the pointless banter between Bulma and the other man.

Cole gulped audibly and Vegeta could smell the salty scent that characterises sweat and fear.

"Ah yes. Vegeta." Cole said while whipping his brow.

"_Prince _Vegeta." Bulma promptly corrected him.

"Yes, yes of course. Miss Bulma, Prince Vegeta, you may enter." Cole finally conceded. Vegeta diffused his ki orb.

"Thanks Cole!" Bulma chirped happily as she reached for the long door handle, "Don't let it happen again." she added, much less happily.

Vegeta followed closely behind Bulma as they finally arrived at their destination. Bulma pushed open the large door, and bright lights greeted the pair. Before Vegeta's eyes even had the chance to adjust properly, there was a rupture of noise from the large room.

"BULMA!" many voices sounded off at once. There was some applause and whistling and Bulma laughed as her friends greeted her.

"Alright everyone," Bulma started, "Yes, I'm very glad to see all of you. But first things first. I'd like to introduce a new partner to the club." Bulma motioned towards Vegeta.

"Please welcome Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans."

Before Vegeta had time to question why she had used the word "partner" to a club, at least a dozen pair of eyes began mercilessly scrutinizing him. His acute hearing allowed him to hear what was being said about him.

"_He killed all those people."_

"_I've heard about him, he's a murderer."_

"_A Saiyan? Really?"_

"_A prince? I could use a prince right about now."_

"_How does his hair stay up?"_

"_I bet Bulma's fucking him." _

And just when he was about roll his eyes in embarrassment and annoyance, one last comment caught his attention.

"_He's just like Goku."_

Never, would he be able to escape the comparison to Kakarot. These Earthlings were going to be sourly disappointed when they realized that he was most certainly not "just like Goku". His eyebrows twitched in irritation. Bulma grabbed his arm and lead him to a bar area. She set them up in the middle.

"This is a special place. I founded this place the year after Goku defeated King Piccolo. Though it's built like a club, it's actually more of a bunker. The people who are allowed to enter have to be committed to peace, but also to fighting for our planet." Bulma paused, and turned towards the other young adults gathered in the club, "You are looking at the heirs to all the major corporations in the world."

Vegeta blinked at Bulma's explanation. She had made it her duty to gather all the most powerful people on her planet. He smirked at her cunning.

"What's the purpose of all this?" he questioned, genuinely curious of her motives.

Bulma tugged on the hem of her skirt. "Well, I just thought that Goku might not always be there. And if society is threatened, we need to have people who can rebuild. Each of our corporations are essential for rebuilding, and if we can all survive an apocalypse, we could pool our resources and reconstruct a new society from the ground up."

Vegeta's eyes widened unintentionally. He was unsure if Bulma was aware of what she was saying, but ultimately she admitted that her faith in Kakarot was not unwavering, and that she still feared that he would be unable to protect their planet.

"By bringing you here tonight, I've told the other members that I've accepted you into our cause. That I trust, should the Earth need to be rebuilt, that you will be there with me to do so." Bulma said smiling at him.

Vegeta rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Keep dreaming, woman. I will fight whatever is threatening the planet, or die trying. I will never be part of this rebuilding project."

"Who knows? Maybe something will change your mind, someday." Bulma cryptically replied, once again smiling.

After ordering a sweet fruity drink, Bulma left Vegeta to go find a few of her acquaintances for him to meet. Bulma brought guest after guest back to him. They were mostly ignored, except for one tall, brown haired man with dark brown eyes who was rubbing small circles on Bulma's back. That earned a predatory growl from Vegeta. Neither Bulma or the brown eyed man took any notice, or if they did, they did not care.

While Bulma socialized, Vegeta sat at the bar listening to her conversations and documenting which heir belonged to which company. He smirked as he thought perhaps one day he would want to rule this planet, and he would know who to take out first.

"Anything I can get for you, Prince Vegeta?" the young woman working behind the bar said.

He noted that the woman was quite young, and had pretty, soft facial features. He wondered if she didn't own an important enough company to be in front of the bar, instead of behind it.

"Not tequila." he replied, frowning. The girl giggled.

"Here, try this." she said, quickly stirring together various liquids. The small glass was topped with a lime and handed to Vegeta.

"It's simple, most of the men here like it." she added, for good measure.

Vegeta sipped on his unknown cocktail, finding it wasn't nearly as stimulating a tequila, which he qualified as a good thing.

He took a moment to better take in his surroundings. There was nothing special looking about this place. There were many wooden tables, surrounded by sturdy looking wooden chairs. Black leather couches lined the corners of the room. Most uniquely, there was a large stage that took up the entire wall opposite to the bar, and it was filled with all sorts of instruments.

"They can all play something." the bartender said, remarking on Vegeta's wandering eyes.

"What do you mean?" he replied, once again slave to curiosity.

"Well they all believe that music is a fundamental part of human culture. So they all learned to play a bunch of different instruments, so if ever they need to, they can record songs to make sure music stays alive."

"That's pure rubbish." Vegeta scoffed, turning back to face the bar. The bartender laughed again.

* * *

Bulma did not return to socialize with Vegeta, and after a few more drinks, he was about to leave all on his own. Deciding this would be his last glass, he ordered one more and went to sit on the couch that was closest to the door. While he was sipping, a woman he did not know decided she would like to join him on said couch.

"Hello, I'm Ruby." she said. Her voice was smooth, her dress was short.

Vegeta did not respond, he instead popped an ice cube into his mouth and let it melt. Ruby watched him very closely.

"I'm heir to Mity Corp, we produce weapons." she insisted, in hopes of intriguing the cold prince.

Vegeta then recognized her voice. She was the one that proposed that Bulma was sleeping with him. His eyes narrowed angrily at the young woman.

"Maybe sometime, you'd like to come by for a tour? I can offer you all the amenities that you have at Capsule Corp. You're always welcome to come stay with us, Prince Vegeta." Ruby proposed, placing a hand on the prince's thigh.

He found that he had no desire to remove the conniving woman's hand. He threw back his drink and settled into the couch. Ruby took this as a nonverbal invitation. She began to prattle off about her corporation, her money and her favourite weapons. Vegeta ignored most of what she said.

After a while of listening to the woman talk, Vegeta could feel his blood stirring again. He had a sudden desire to kill something. He envisioned himself shoving his hand through the annoying woman's stomach and slowly ripping out her organs. He could almost feel the hot blood on his hands and hear her screams. His eyes shone with predatory awareness.

"I can't believe you actually manage to live with Briefs, like all the time. I can hardly stand her for one night. I do have to admit, she looks fantastic tonight. I can't believe how much weight she's lost. I'm almost jealous. She always was the fatty of the bunch." Ruby admitted.

Vegeta instinctively growled at the insult, baring his canine tooth to Ruby. Her eyes widened momentarily and the prince's shocking display, but the expression was short lived. Ruby instead rolled her eyes, leaving Vegeta feeling slightly confused.

"Here she goes again." Ruby huffed, looking to the sky.

Bulma was in fact striding towards the large stage, her feet stumbling in her high heels. She sat down on the bench to the piano on the stage and set the microphone.

"This is so annoying. She's such a drama queen. Every time that Yamcha dumps her on her ass, she thinks she can take it out on us by singing her sorrows. She has an awful singing voice." Ruby complained, but Vegeta didn't react this time, for he was embarrassed to have shown his protectiveness over the blue-haired woman in the first place.

Bulma's hands flowed beautifully across the keys of the piano. _"I'm wide awake. I'm wide awake."_

The hair on Vegeta's neck rose at the sound of Bulma's voice, it was like he couldn't stop the shiver that passed through his core. Ruby sighed loudly. She turned to Vegeta and began to run her hands along his chest. He was shocked at her boldness.

"Want to go somewhere? Let's just get out of here." Ruby cooed to him, her eyes were full of lust.

Oh, how long had it been since someone had looked at him like that. Though Ruby's dark eyes seemed off to him, though he could not imagine why. He nodded, with Bulma's voice ringing in his ears.

"_I wish I knew then, what I know now. Wouldn't dive in, wouldn't bow down. Gravity hurts, you made it so sweet. 'Til I woke up on, on the concrete."_

Ruby tugged Vegeta towards the exit. They swiftly left, made their way through the corridors and stairs until they were finally outside, between both buildings. As soon as his skin hit the moonlight, Vegeta felt like he was ignited. He put his hands on both sides of Ruby's head, trapping her like prey. He leaned his head in and took a deep breath in the crook of her neck. She smelled of fresh water. She smelled wrong, but Vegeta could not imagine why. Ruby shudder at the closeness of the prince and he could smell her arousal begin to mix with the outside air.

He ran his lips over the delicate skin near her exposed collarbone, and Ruby shook with desire. Vegeta grabbed her leg and wrapped it around his middle and Ruby moaned into the night. His large fingers trailed her bare thigh, slowly inching towards her now-exposed folds.

Before Vegeta could reach his prize, a familiar sound of swiftly moving air caught his attention. About three feet away from him, stood none other than Kakarot himself, his fingers still on his forehead from his Instant Transmission technique. Vegeta dropped Ruby on her butt. He was expecting useless conversation from the younger Saiyan and so he was thoroughly shocked when a fist made contact with his jaw.

He wiped the trickle of blood that flowed down his chin, and smirked. He had been awoken.

"Even after all these years of living among humans, the moon still calls to you, doesn't it Kakarot." Vegeta said coyly.

"You have no idea." Kakarot replied, matching the prince's smirk. And they took to the sky.

* * *

"Oh my god, Goku! What happened?!" the shrill voice that belonged to Chi Chi called as her husband entered their small house carrying and bloodied and beaten Saiyan prince.

"Aw, it's nothing Chi Chi. It's just the moon was really clear tonight. I could feel that Vegeta was itching for a fight. I just went a little hard on him I guess. He'll be alright." Goku replied, grinning sheepishly.

The tall Saiyan carried his prince into a spare bedroom and placed him gently on the bed. He sighed loudly. Chi Chi rushed out of the room to grab medical supplies.

"I have to be more careful. I need to watch them more closely. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if Bulma ever found out..." Goku said to no one in particular.

Trunks' secret was weighing heavily on him, especially since Yamcha so brutally ended his relationship with Bulma. He could not see how Bulma and Vegeta were going to get from where they are now, to making a baby. He sighed again. Chi Chi re-entered the room and went to work cleaning dried blood and dressing any wounds that were still active. She could feel her husband's desperation.

"Something bothering you, Goku?" she asked while cleaning blood off of Vegeta's forehead.

"Fate is a strange thing." Goku answered. He knew he should tell Chi Chi about Trunks, but he had promised not to tell a soul. Chi Chi nodded, but said nothing, she knew that sometimes her Goku saw things that just weren't obvious to others. And when it came to Vegeta, she was certain that Goku was the expert.

"Everything will work out, right Chi Chi?" Goku said, sitting on the ground next to Vegeta's head.

"Of course it will darling." she chimed back reassuringly.

* * *

After a couple hours of watching Vegeta sleep, Goku being pacing in the small spare room of his house, much like a cat would. He could not relieve some of the guilt he was experiencing, and he was feeling quite distressed.

'I should have been watching him. I can't let anything distract him from Bulma.' he thought angrily to himself. He couldn't shake how close of a call it had been tonight.

He was terrified of being the reason that Trunks was not born. Having a son had changed his life, and he wanted the same for Vegeta. He would not cause someone to lose their child. Goku ran his fingers through his thick hair and sighed loudly.

* * *

_Vegeta stirred, waking from his slumber. He kept his eyes closed, stayed lying down and examined his surroundings with his other senses. He had no idea where he was. He almost jumped when he heard a slicing sound, closely followed by a thump. He could feel hot liquid pooling around his left hand, and the smell of copper flooded his nose. He jumped up in to an offensive position as soon as he realized he recognized the smell._

'_Human blood.' the prince thought, scanning the room for an assailant. _

_It wasn't really a room, more like an infinite black emptiness. A dozen feet away from him stood a slim woman with long black hair. Her hair was pin-straight, until its ends flared out wildly in all directions. Next to the woman's feet was a headless corpse. A corpse wearing a royal blue dress. Vegeta's eyes widened, for he recognized both the woman and the corpse._

"_M... Mother?" he stuttered. _

_The woman turned to face him, and to his great despair, he was correct. His mother smiled widely at him. Vegeta's eyes did not see his mother's smile, they were much too focused on the head that his mother was holding by the hair, blood still dripping from the neck. He stepped forward cautiously, as if he needed to be close to ensure that what he was seeing was real. _

"_Bulma..." he muttered quietly, his voice caught in his throat._

_He watched as his mother careless threw Bulma's head to her right, as if it were trash. His mind was reeling. He was trying to vocalize something coherent. _

"_What have you done?" he thought aloud, his shoulder slumping. His mother was silent._

"_What have you done?!" he repeated, this time shouting angrily. His aura shot out wildly around him, displaying his true feelings._

_His mother chuckled at her son. _

"_Don't be so absurd, my son. Such a frail creature is not fitting to serve the Prince of Saiyans." she stated, still smiling lovingly at her first child. _

"_You know nothing of Bulma!" Vegeta shouted back, surprising himself, "She is strong. She is fierce. She fights for everything she believes in. She is intelligent. She is everything." _

_His mother's features softened considerably. _

"_She fights for everything she believes in?" his mother reiterated, "Does she believe in you, my son?" _

_Vegeta's emotions were overwhelming. He had never experienced such an intense internal state. He was saying everything he never thought he would have the courage to say. But it was too late, Bulma was dead and she would never know that he held her at the top of his world, that she was everything. _

"_Does she believe in you, Vegeta?" his mother repeated. _

_Bulma's words bounced around in his mind. He clutched his head, and released a primal scream. She trusted him. She was counting on him to save her world. She didn't think Kakarot was enough. She needed him. _She needed him.

_A sudden explosion around him and Vegeta was engulfed in a golden flame. It covered him from head to toe, but he was certain he was burning from the inside out. He had never felt so alive and so dead at the same time, it was like the perfect mixture of motion and stillness. He looked to his hand, enveloped in a beautiful golden aura. He was legendary. _

_His mother looked at him knowingly, smiling softly. _

"_Destiny is with you, Prince Vegeta. You are not alone in your plight. This woman will be your undoing, or your key to power. It's up to you to decide. Do not let her go, my son." his mother said gently. _

_Before he could asked any questions, the room turned from black to white and it was all over._

* * *

Vegeta sat straight up and looked around wildly. He immediately spotted Kakarot and their late night fighting session came rushing back to him.

"Hey Vegeta! How are you..." Kakarot was not able to finish his sentence, as Vegeta cut him off.

"Where's Bulma?!" Vegeta half-shouted in panic. Goku smiled widely.

"I think she's home now, if you want I can..." but he was once again unable to complete his sentence, as Vegeta blasted through the window and took off towards Capsule Corp.

The night air felt amazing on Vegeta's hot skin, and the rays of the moon were aiding his cause. He flew faster than usual, his dream still fresh in his mind. He had been a fool, thinking if he ignored Bulma she would simply go away. She was the only one who had proved trustworthy. If he lost her, everything would be lost.

He arrived back at Capsule Corp in record time. He landed loudly on the front lawn and ran towards the front door. He yanked it open and darted through the kitchen, past the living room. Mrs. Briefs was still knitting, though an unusual frown was plastered on her face.

"Vegeta! Don't go up there! Please!" Mrs. Briefs shouted as soon as she saw Vegeta dash up the stairs towards Bulma's room. Her plea landed on deaf ears; Vegeta was too engrossed in his emotions to even consider stopping.

He smashed down Bulma's bedroom door, and for the first time in his life, the universe stopped making sense.

Bulma was lying on her back on her bed, hair unclipped and messy. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her dress was hiked up, revealing her bare bottom. Her legs were swung carelessly over the shoulders of a tall, brown haired man who was kneeling in front of her and struggling to undo his belt buckle. At the violent intrusion, both Bulma and the brown eyed man stopped and stared at Vegeta. Bulma's eyes widened and clarity suddenly rang through her muddled mind.

"Vegeta." Bulma whispered.

Vegeta looked at her, his face was contorted in a way that Bulma had never seen. It looked like Vegeta was desperately trying not to scream. He looked at her with such predatory anger that Bulma suddenly feared for her life. Vegeta was about to break, she was sure. She was about to die.

"What the hell, man." the brown eyed man said groggily, still processing the situation.

Vegeta's eyes instantly broke their connection with Bulma and turned to the man that was about to have his way with Bulma. Vegeta could not hold back, he screamed. It was sound that was a perfect balance of agony and anger. Vegeta lunged. He went directly for the man's throat. His fingers clamped around the man's neck, Vegeta effortlessly lifted him and threw him against the large windows that made up Bulma's balcony doors. The doors exploded into a million shards of glass that easily cut the frail man's skin, but bounced off of Vegeta like water droplets. Bulma screamed and covered her head.

Vegeta pick up the man by his hair. The weakling had begun to sob. Vegeta tossed him back into the bedroom like a rag doll. His aura exploded around him as he finally decided to speak.

"You are never to be seen with her ever again." Vegeta commanded, his extended ki causing things in the room to hover off of their resting places.

The man was far too terrified and confused to answer. Vegeta did not appreciate his defiance. He planted his foot firmly on the man's arm and applied pressure until he heard the healthy crack of a broken bone. The man screamed in agony, closely followed by a scream from Bulma. She leaped up from the bed and ran over to Vegeta and grabbed onto his arm.

"Stop this Vegeta!" she shouted at him, her voice shaky. She had not seen such sadism from Vegeta in a very long time.

His head snapped around to her, and Bulma had to hold her breath. He was looking at her like no man had ever. Pieces started to fall into place, and she understood. Vegeta's eyes were filled with anger and hatred, but tinges of hurt and despair danced in and out of his orbs as he looked at her. She let go of him.

Vegeta took her action as consent. He lifted the man by his foot and threw him out the window. Both of them heard the splash, as the man landed in the pool at the back of Capsule Corporation. Vegeta returned his deadly glare to Bulma.

"You're disgusting." he spat, "You're trash. You're vile. You're nothing."

Vegeta pushed Bulma to the ground angrily and without and another word, he blasted through the ceiling of her room and flew off into the night sky.

Bulma wrapped her arms around her shoulders and cried. She was nothing.

* * *

_Your name, your face is all you have left now._

_Betrayed, disgraced, you've been erased._

_-Three Days Grace_

* * *

A/N: PLEASE DON'T THROW THINGS. I promise things will work out . Conflict is good for character development!

I hope you did actually enjoy this chapter, I worked quite hard to get it just right. I promise the next chapter will be up within two weeks, hopefully in 1 week, but definitely in two.

KINDLY LEAVE A REVIEW :) They are much appreciated (and loved)!


	8. Chapter 8 - Plights and Pencils

A/N: Hello everyone! As promised, I'm back with a new chapter. This chapter was mostly ready almost a week ago, but life got in the way. I finally got around to finishing and editing it just a few moments ago.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! It's so wonderful hearing from everyone, I carefully read and consider everything you write to me. The story flows with your feedback in mind, so THANK YOU!

I'm going to start working on the next chapter right now and I really hope to have it up in the next few days. You may notice this chapter is a bit of a shift from others, this is a Bulma-centric chapter, something we haven't seen very much of (as I am trying to make a Vegeta-centric story because I don't think there are enough of those). This chapter is also a bit shorter than usual, and I believe the next few chapters are going to be shorter and a bit quicker and then go back to the slower, longer chapters.

There are a few time jumps in this chapter, I'm fairly certain I've made it clear how much time is passing, but feel free to ask me to clarify if needed!

So let's get to it then! Enjoy the next chapter of **For Every Action**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall Z. **

* * *

Bulma didn't know when she stopped crying or how she had gotten back to her bed. She did know that she had fallen into disturbing nightmares of snapping bones and drowning in endless pools of blood. Bulma was convinced that she had just had the second worst night of her life.

She tried to leave her bed, but every time she would try she would feel sad and heavy. She could not be moved by promises of strawberry shortcake or the calling of a steamy hot bath. Only one thing plagued her mind.

Where is Vegeta?

Her usually quick and cunning mind was muddled and scrambled. She could not make sense of Vegeta's actions, no matter how hard she tried. But she could not ask him, and even if she was able to, he probably wouldn't answer anyway.

She had no idea where he flew off to. He had no clothes, no food and he left without the taking the Gravity Room. He must be terribly angry if he left without his training equipment.

'Maybe he wasn't just angry...' Bulma thought as a lone tear rolled down her cheek.

Certainly, Vegeta was absolutely livid, but the look he gave her just before he left was tinted with hurt. How had she managed to hurt Vegeta? She didn't know. The prince should not care who she decides to spend her night with. Hell, he shouldn't care about her at all.

The only thing she really knew is that Vegeta was gone. Perhaps for good. Without him, she worried her world did not stand a chance against the prophesized androids. She had doomed human kind without even trying.

Bulma was so lost in her thoughts, she did not hear her mother tell her that her late night companion was safe and recovering in the Capsule Corp medical wing. Nor did she hear the three contractors enter her room to assess the damages done to her ceiling and the roof. She didn't know how long had passed before someone knocked cautiously on her bedroom door, and the last voice she wanted to hear spoke.

"Hey B. How've you been?" Yamcha said casually, letting himself into her bedroom as if he had the right to be there.

Bulma sat up so fast it made her head spin.

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?" Bulma shouted angrily.

"Whoa! Just calm down. The door is propped open for the workers. I just let myself in." he stated, holding his hands up defensively.

"You better get out of here before..." Bulma swallowed hard, she was going to say before Vegeta got a hold of him, but that argument was now void, "Before I have you arrested for trespassing!"

"I just came to check on you Bulma. I just needed to be sure that Vegeta didn't hurt you too." he said softly.

Bulma's eyes widened and she jumped out of bed. She noticed someone had changed her into her pajamas, but she didn't remember that either.

"How do you know about that?" she said shakily.

"Babe, anyone who can sense even a little bit of energy could have felt Vegeta. His ki was incredibly intense, he woke up the whole gang!" Yamcha said defensively, clenching his fists.

"Don't you dare call me babe!" Bulma screeched, hot tears started to pour down her face. "Get out of my house right now! I don't want to see your stupid face! What happens between me and Vegeta is of no concern to you!"

Yamcha rose an eyebrow to this statement, and instantly his face became red with anger. He reached out and grabbed both of Bulma's wrists and pulled her harshly towards his body. She didn't have the energy to resist the harsh tug, and a whimper of pain escaped her lips when her body collided with his. If Yamcha noticed that he had hurt her, he didn't acknowledge it.

He held her arms down by her sides and squeezed her wrists. "You are going to tell me exactly what you mean by that." Yamcha seethed.

Bulma felt like her wrists were shattering from the pressure. She couldn't even formulate a response through the pain she was feeling. She looked up at Yamcha, anger and disgust painted in her eyes, and she spit on his face.

Yamcha instantly released her wrists, so shocked was he. Bulma fell onto her knees, both of her hands settling awkwardly on the floor. As soon as Yamcha had released her, pain had flooded her and it was overwhelming. She refused to give Yamcha any satisfaction, she screamed in her mind as loud as she could and kept her lips sealed shut.

Yamcha wiped his face with his t-shirt, turned on his heels and left. He chose to punch a hole through Vegeta's bedroom door on his way out.

* * *

Bulma woke to find herself in a new place. The smell told her she was in the medical wing, the pain reminded her why. She clenched her jaw in anger and small tears ran down her face. No one had come to her rescue this time. Not Goku, not Gohan, not Krillin and certainly not Vegeta. Why? Why hadn't anyone else come with Yamcha to check on her? Didn't anyone realize that it would be a bad idea to have her and Yamcha in the same room together? She clenched her eyes shut as a new wave of pain hit, but it didn't come from her wrists.

She had been left to die by her closest friends. She had outlived her purpose. She got them to Namek, she convinced Vegeta to stay and help with the androids. And now she had pushed him away. Her friends would never forgive her for being so selfish and ignorant. Maybe she shouldn't have argued with Vegeta. Maybe she shouldn't have complained about his demands. Perhaps she should have bent to his every whim to ensure the safety of her loved ones and her world. The idea made her feel sick to her stomach.

She was not a slave nor a servant, but perhaps she could have been, just for a short while. But no, she was too selfish and proud to be pushed around. A cry of despair left her lips. She had alienated herself from the only friends who cared about her, the real her. She was alone now.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, Bunny Briefs sauntered into the room carrying a tray of desserts and fresh fruit. She smiled brightly as she saw her daughter was awake.

"Welcome back dear." Bunny said as she deposited the tray on a small round table near Bulma's feet.

Bulma shot her a watery smile and attempted to sit up, but the pressure on her wrists made her eyes roll with pain. Bunny rushed over to instead adjust the bed, so Bulma could sit up properly.

"How long was I out for?" Bulma asked, her voice was scratchy.

"Well you were in bed for just over three days, and you've been down here for 24 hours." Bunny answered while piling sweets onto a small plate for her daughter.

Bulma sighed loudly and nodded. She didn't realize she had stayed locked in her own mind for so long.

"When do I get out of here?" Bulma asked, looking around the small room.

"Your wrists are severely bruised. No fractures, thank goodness, but you won't be able to work for about a month." Bunny replied.

"I'm not staying down here for a month!" Bulma exclaimed.

"No, no of course not. You can come back upstairs as soon as your nutrients are replenished and you're properly hydrated. Shouldn't take more than another day, dear." her mother said, smiling as if her daughter hadn't just been physically assaulted.

At this moment, a woman with curly black hair entered. It was this woman who had overseen Bulma's care since her birth, Dr. Maria Collins.

"Oh it's so nice to see you awake, Bulma!" Dr. Collins chimed, "Let's take a look at those wrists."

The doctor asked Bulma to moved her wrists in all different directions and at strange angles. Sometimes it was painless, and sometimes it wasn't. Bulma gritted her teeth through it, but she couldn't hide the relief when the doctor was done.

"It certainly looks like it will heal well, but I stand by my statement. None of your tinkering for at least four weeks." the doctor advised as she scribbled on her clipboard, "Now let's talk about your diet. I know you work hard and sometimes you forget to eat, but you can't keep going like this. You'll waste away to nothing."

For a fleeting second, Bulma thought that wasting away didn't sound so bad. She sighed.

"I know you don't like to be lectured, but I am very serious. I'm going to have you take a couple vitamins until you get back to a normal body weight. You need to take care of yourself, Bulma." Dr. Collins said, but she could tell Bulma's mind was in another place, as it almost always was.

She needed to take care of herself, did she? Bulma almost laughed. She wouldn't be able to take care of herself if the androids cornered her. She would be dead within two years. Why even bother trying to be healthy when you know the world is ending? With Vegeta gone, she needs to accept that her death is imminent. Everyone was going to die, and it was entirely her fault.

* * *

Bulma left the medical wing the next day, as promised. But she found no solace in returning to her bedroom, so she avoided it. She tried to do little things to strengthen her wrists, like take a shower or changing the channel on the television. The bandages helped her keep them steady, but she couldn't wait for the day they would come off.

Days went by, but they were all blurred together. Bulma only slept when her body finally won over, which was a rarity. She ate if her mother brought her food, but it almost always ended up in the toilet seeing as her stomach didn't seem to be able to handle anything more complicated that dry toast.

She spent most of her time on the living room couch, surrounded by soft blankets and cushy pillows. Occasionally, one of her parents' cats would wander into the living room and sleep on her lap. It was the only thing that made her smile in the past week.

Bulma watched the news as many hours as she could. Always listening for reports of explosions, mass murders or incontrollable fires. Any hint of Vegeta's location. She had so far been unsuccessful, but she would not give up. If she had to travel to Namek and back to convince Vegeta to come home, she would.

She had not seen hide or hair of Yamcha nor any of the other Z-Fighters since Vegeta's departure. She figured as much. They must be so angry with her that they are keeping themselves away. The thought made her heart shake with agony. She had never meant to betray her friends.

* * *

Bulma woke with a start, coming out of a brutally violent nightmare. She rubbed her throat, almost to reassure herself that her head was in fact still attached. Sleep had done her no good, once again. It was more exhausting than replenishing at this point. The living room was dark, and the clouds allowed no moonlight. It must be the middle of the night.

Bulma rose from the couch and made her way to the kitchen to have a glass of cold water. As she sipped slowly, she thought of how pathetic she must seem. First Yamcha left, and she turned into a shell and now Vegeta was gone and she was wasting away into nothingness. She did not bother to turn on any lights, perhaps she hoped the darkness would take her with it when it left in the morning.

She laughed out loud as she realized how much her life was driven by others, instead of by herself. It didn't really bother her, she was glad she had friends to help and they certainly filled her life with adventure and thrills. She was most certain that if she was not the most intelligent woman in the universe, they would not keep her around.

Her eyes glanced to the calendar hanging on the wall. Her mother had a habit of crossing off the days as they went by, since both her husband and daughter seemed to forget time existed at all. Bulma's eyes widened. She had not realized how many days had passed. Exactly four weeks ago, Vegeta had left her. How had she not realized he'd been gone for so long?

She wondered what he would say to her if he saw her right now. She would bet half her fortune that he would make a snarky remark about her messy hair and complain that the Gravity Machine hasn't being properly maintained. She laughed into the darkness. She didn't know where he was, but in her mind, he was in the jungle fighting giant snakes for training. Or maybe he was in the north, training his mind and wrestling with polar bears for exercise.

Bulma laughed again, gulped down her water and settled back into her spot on the couch to keep watching the 24 hour news channel.

* * *

Three days later, as promised, Dr. Collins removed Bulma's bandages revealing fresh and pain-free wrists. Bulma was happy that her activities weren't restricted anymore, but when she was free to go she simply returned to her spot on the sofa to watch the news.

Daydreaming about what Vegeta was doing had become a pastime in the last 3 days. It helped her scattered thoughts make sense. She had been coming up with elaborate schemes and sometimes she even pictured him in different worlds. It brought her peace she didn't understand to think about Vegeta being off in space, happy and safe. She wondered what he was thinking about right now.

'Probably about how he can steal the Gravity Machine.' Bulma thought smirking. She doubted he even knew how to encapsulate it, he had never bothered to learn how to. He never thought he'd have to leave.

Bulma's throat constricted at the thought, and she felt heavy with guilt. He had trusted her to keep him housed, fed and his training gear up-to-date, and she had threw all his efforts and hard work back into his face.

Bulma's eyes widened as her mind had figured out something on its own. He trusted her to keep his equipment in top shape, and she had promised a total overhaul of the Gravity Room. What wouldn't be a great way to call Vegeta home than with a completely re-vamped Gravity Room.

'And a bookshelf.' she recalled.

Vegeta had also asked for a bookshelf. Well a little shopping would do her good, and building the bookshelf would allow her to test her newly-healed wrists. A small, real smile graced Bulma's lips for the first time in over a month. She rose from her sofa to make her way to a hot shower. She passed her mother on the way to her bedroom.

"Hey mom, do you think you could pull out catalogues for the furniture stores?" Bulma asked. If her mother was shocked by the strange request, she didn't show it.

"Of course dear! Going to do some redecorating?" Bunny inquired.

"Yeah I am. It's for Vegeta." Bulma stated simply. She then made her way up the stairs to indulge in a hot shower.

* * *

Clean and determined, Bulma sat at the kitchen island with her mother by her side and began to filter through the catalogues. Picking out furniture for Vegeta, she found, was no simple task. She was almost certain he would not care about the craftsmanship, colour of the wood or the height of his bookcase, but she did. She would chose something that suited him, something he could really call his own.

After she finished looking through the second catalogue, she decided that modern furniture just wasn't built for Vegeta. He was sturdy, strong and proud, while today's furniture seemed to be more whimsical, curved and soft. With a loud sigh, she rubbed her eyes and looked to her mother for support.

"Mom, none of this stuff is good enough for Vegeta. What I am supposed to do?" Bulma said, feeling her eyes burning from the disappointment. She so wanted to get something nice for Vegeta.

"Well dear, I suppose you should always do what you do when something you want doesn't exist. Make it yourself." Bunny chirped lovingly at her daughter. Bulma's face instantly lit up.

Of course! It was absurd to think she'd actually find something she thought worthy of Vegeta. She would design and build this bookshelf herself. She kissed her mother on the cheek and bounced to her lab to get her sketching supplies.

She decided that if she wanted to be inspired, that she would sketch in Vegeta's bedroom, that way she could visualize much better. Bulma ended up making a few trips up and down the stairs, she became very dizzy, very fast. Dropping her supplies on the ground, Bulma stumbled over to Vegeta's bed. She lied down, but the spinning did not stop right away. She gripped Vegeta's pillow tightly, using it as an anchor in the spinning room. As she did so, a familiar scent flooded her nose.

'Vegeta...' she thought dreamily. She had forgotten how he smelled. She vowed never to forget it again.

If fact, this whole room smelled like Vegeta. It stirred a strange emotion in her. She couldn't believe she was admitting it, but she missed the prince. She missed him sorely. She began to think about the past months. He had shown her parts of him that no one else knew. He had shared that with her and she took him for granted. She felt incredibly stupid for not seeing that Vegeta really was trying to connect with her, in his weird, alien way. When he came back, she promised that she would always remember that there was a man behind the prince's facade.

When her eyes readjusted and she felt ready to leave the prince's bed, she rose to set up her sketching easel. Her hands moved fluidly and painlessly, and for that she was eternally grateful. Once the easel was ready, she closed Vegeta's door and took a deep breath. She sat comfortably on her round sketching chair and went to work.

* * *

Many hours passed, many sheets of sketching paper were thrown by the way side and many pencils were in different corners of the room, some snapped in half. Bulma ended up having to tie her hair in a tight bun atop her head just to stop her loose strands from tickling her neck and she switched her heavy cotton sweat pants for some denim shorts.

'Done.' she thought, her body echoing her mind with a happy sigh and a small smile.

The bookshelf was perfect. In the end, she decided to make twin shelves. The two bookshelves would be joined at the top by an intricate pattern of tree branches. There would be about 3 metres between the shelves, a space in which Bulma had decided to put Vegeta's favourite lounging chair. The wood would be dark and sturdy, with the outer sides decorated with the same tree branch pattern at the link. The bookcase would easily reach 7 or 8 feet tall, would be more on the narrow side and the top shelf of each bookcase would have angled inner corner, instead of a perfect rectangle.

Completely satisfied with her design, Bulma dialed the number for her interior designer. Some of the patterns she had chosen were too precise for her to make, so a professional would have to do a good part of the woodwork. After a quick chat, Bulma scanned her drawing and sent it to her designer. She would received all the pieces tomorrow afternoon.

Even though she wished so very much to start reconstructing the GR, her wrists were throbbing from the strain of working all morning. She supposed that she could start brainstorming, and only write down the things she absolutely wanted to remember. With her heart feeling light, and hopes that Vegeta would return soon, Bulma took one final glance around Vegeta's room. A small oversight on her part forced a dark frown to appear on her face. A large, fist-shaped hole in Vegeta's door was currently covered by a piece of plywood. Her heart burned with anger. No matter how hard she tried, Yamcha's presence always wormed it's way back into her life, and caused her spirit to crumble.

* * *

A/N: This is what I had in mind for Vegeta's bookshelf, if you didn't quite understand the description:

|_\ _/ _|

I also sketched and designed it myself, so it's harder to explain for some reason.

I hope you enjoyed chapter 8!

QUESTION: Originally, my plan was to make the next 3 or 4 chapters Bulma-centric, and Vegeta will re-enter a bit later and explain where he's been to Bulma; however, I'd be open to writing a chapter where the reader knows exactly where Vegeta is, even though Bulma doesn't. So I'm opening the vote! If you decide to review, please include your vote and tell me if you'd prefer we (Bulma and the readers) all find out where Vegeta has been at the same time, or if I should write a Vegeta chapter. Of course, I know exactly where Vegeta is, so it makes no difference to me!

I'm looking forward to hearing from you! Kindly leave a review :)


	9. Chapter 9 - Realizations and Running

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm back with a new chapter! I had bouts of illness and a bit of writer's block, but I finally managed to crank out this chapter. So sorry for the delay!

Most reviewers requested to stick with the Bulma-only chapters, so that's what this is! I think I will add the Vegeta-only chapter at the end of this story after it is complete, for those who would like to read it.

**Warning**: Some violence description.

Enjoy chapter 9 of **For Every Action**

Disclaimer: I do not own DragonBall Z.

* * *

Bulma raced down the stairs to the kitchen. She was glad to see her mother still looking through some magazines. That woman could shop forever. It must be genetic.

"Mother, did you not notice that Vegeta needs a new door?" Bulma asked bitterly.

"Of course, I just figured we would wait until he got back so he could pick one himself." Bunny replied, looking intently at a bathroom lighting fixture that she quite liked.

Bulma sighed, "I guess. I just know he wouldn't go near that door if he knew that Yamcha had touched it. And trust me, he can probably smell it from space." she added, tugging her bun loose.

"What makes you think he's in space darling?" Bunny replied, looking at her daughter this time. Bulma's cheeks became tinted with pink.

"Oh, I don't really think that. I just... It helps me if I think of him out there." Bulma admitted, sitting next to her mother. Her mother nodded knowingly.

"It's been quiet around here without him. He brought out so much in all of us. I think we brought out a lot of him too." Bunny said, turning a catalogue page.

Bulma's eyes widened at her mother's wisdom. Her mother was a social creature by nature, and that meant that she could read people a lot better than most. Bulma and Dr. Briefs were so invested in machines and mechanics that sometimes they forgot that people were just as complex. Bulma reached over to grab a magazine and started to flip through it. She didn't need to put as much thought into buying a door for Vegeta.

'As long as it keeps me out, he doesn't care what it looks like.' Bulma thought. She laughed out loud.

Bulma picked up the phone and ordered a new door for Vegeta. It was simple, dark wood again. She also ordered a silver handle, which she thought would be a nice touch. After her order was completed, she walked over to the fridge and search for something to eat. For once, she was actually hungry and she was excited to eat something. At the sound of the fridge opening, Bunny's head rose immediately.

"Want me to make you something dear?" Bunny asked, her face shinning with excitement. Her cooking had been greatly reduced since Vegeta left and Bulma didn't eat much anymore.

"What do you think Vegeta would want?" Bulma asked absentmindedly. Bunny thought that was a peculiar question from her daughter, but she tucked it away for analysis later.

"Well, I suppose he would like fettuccine alfredo topped with shrimp and scallops." Bunny decided on, seeing as Vegeta always seemed to really enjoy seafood.

"I'll have that." Bulma replied without a thought. She walked over to the living room and took her spot on the couch while her mother cooked.

* * *

Bulma finished her meal quickly, and to her mother's delight, was not sick that night. She took her usual stance in front of the television and watched the same repetitive news channel for hours until it was dusk. Still no clues toVegeta's whereabouts. She sighed loudly and decided she better start thinking about getting the Gravity Machine renovated, and hopefully use it as an apology. She grabbed some pens and a notepad from her bedroom and walked across the lawn to the spaceship. Winter was going to be arriving soon, it was starting to get very cold, especially for a tiny girl in denim shorts. A strong shiver permeated through her frail body.

She opened up the hatch and walked up the ramp to the main chamber, rubbing her arms to try and keep warm. The stench of old sweat hit her hard, but she did not feel disgusted, instead she felt sorrow, and perhaps even longing. She sat in the middle of the room, her back to the main controls and began brainstorming.

The obvious additions were a more powerful gravity simulator and reinforced outer walls. She added to her list the idea of reinforcing the inner walls as well. Perhaps the floors could be made from stronger steel. The list began to grow for the electronic components of the gravity simulator as well. Finally, she decided the living quarters would need to be made much more luxurious, with a full kitchen and a shower that didn't look like it was crying.

With her list complete and her mind reeling in all the work she would have to do, Bulma was surprised to find herself yawning. Perhaps it would be worth actually trying to sleep tonight. The thought made her smile. Knowing that the sun was completely gone at this point, and the night would be near freezing temperatures, Bulma decided to grab the blanket from the lower deck. As she carefully lowered herself on the thin rungs of the ladder, she made a mental note to replace them too. Once her feet were firmly on the ground, Bulma took a quick step towards the small cot that was the sleeping area in this ship.

She yanked the blanket off the cot and wrapped it around her shoulders. Again, Vegeta's sent flooded her nose and she sighed loudly. She considered sleeping in the ship tonight, but decided against it, as she wasn't sure in which condition the heating system would be in since it had not be used in quite some time. Getting hypothermia simply wasn't an option.

Her mind made up, she threw the blanket up the ladder onto the main floor and slowly followed behind it. Breaking bones was not an option either. She replaced the thin wool blanket on her shoulders and made her way out of the ship, making sure to seal it tight and turn on all the alarms.

Her head was starting to feel heavy and yawns were coming closer together as Bulma walked across the lawn back to her house. She was glad she thought of taking the blanket, the cold night air nipped painfully at her exposed face.

Once inside, she made herself a cup of herbal tea to shake the cold out of her core. She sipped slowly, and her imagination thought up elaborate stories of what Vegeta was doing. When she was done her tea, she noticed she was smiling. Vegeta made her smile, what a peculiar thought, she pondered. She grabbed the blanket that had been left on the kitchen island and made her way to her bedroom.

When she opened her bedroom door, the room smelled stale. A small frown formed itself on her face, as she wondered if she smelled stale. Vegeta's room and the gravity room held his scent like he had been there an hour ago. He was so strong and potent, and she was delicate and easily erased. Unmemorable, unimportant and worthless. Those were the words she was sure Vegeta would use to describe her.

A lone tear slipped down her face, but she quickly wiped it away. She should not care what the Saiyan prince thinks of her, she really shouldn't. But why did it cause her heart to get heavy when she thought of him hating her? She brushed it off and told herself that she considered him her friend, and she never wanted any of her friends to think of her in such a way. But she would bet they all thought she was just an annoying woman who goes around screwing things up. She tried her best to remove the damning thoughts from her mind, but they stuck. She would be alone from now own, not even Goku could stand to be around her.

With that final idea, she stripped down to her panties, pulled on a baby blue tank top and got into bed. She pulled the covers all the way up to her chin, as if she was trying to protect herself from something. However her intentions were in vain, as nothing could save her from the demons within.

* * *

First light trickled into Bulma's bedroom, though it was much too early for her to considered waking up, her eyes fluttered open against her will. Instantly, she knew that something was seriously, seriously wrong with her. Her eyes darted around her room in panic, and she tried to scream as loud as she could but no sounds would be heard. She wanted to sob in terror, but nothing happened. _She could not move. _

None of her limbs would respond to her will and she felt like someone had placed an anvil on her chest, preventing her from taking any satisfying breaths. She could feel sweat pooling behind her neck and she knew that she was far too warm. She was absolutely terrified. Her eyes were still in her control and she knew she was breathing, but she still could not move. Her thoughts were wild and erratic, ranging from someone had poisoned her to being in a severe accident that she couldn't remember.

A shadow appeared in her peripheral vision. She wanted to weep with joy, someone had found her. Whoever it was simply stood in her doorway, and without the ability to turn her head she could not identify the person. Straining her eyes, she tried to make out the person's form based on their shadow. A unexpected wave of pure happiness and relief flooded her, as she was certain she could make out a distinctly shaped flame-shaped hairdo on her savior.

'Vegeta.' she thought happily. He would no doubt smell her fear and make sure she would be okay. Right?

He still would not move. Panic began to settle in again. Maybe he had done this to her, Bulma thought. But she told herself she must not believe such things. He needed her, he would not make her paralysed or hurt her to the point of not being able to recover. Right?

Doubt eased its way into her mind, and she wished she would simply die instead of this. Why wouldn't he help her? She called out to him, but again, no sounds were produced. She knew he must be watching her. Maybe he didn't know she was awake after all. She tried to rapidly blink her eyes, trying to send him a signal about her consciousness. He still did not move.

Another shadow appeared on the other side of the room, grabbing her attention. Again she couldn't make out who it was, but the shadow was large and she wondered if there were multiple people causing it. Vegeta's shadow moved, and she noticed he backed away. Was he afraid of the newcomers? As if he was hearing her thoughts, Vegeta let out his tried and true battle cry and dashed towards the large shadow. She cursed his speed and the limitations of her vision. She had not been able to make eye contact or even get a good look at him before he disappeared out of her visual field once again.

She could hear the familiar sounds of limbs meeting limbs and grunts of effort. Who could he be fighting? And why were they in her room? This simply made no sense, but the fact that she could not run away or try to help stood out too strongly in her mind. She could not move.

The sound of bones crushing followed up a cry of pain she knew belonged to Vegeta made her throat clench. If he was losing, what would possibly happen to her after? She was going to die. They were going to kill Vegeta and then kill her. They would laugh at her inability to move and torture her until she could no longer stand the pain. Her last moments on Earth, she would be alone.

'No. No. No!' was the only words that rang through her terrified mind. Vegeta was dying feet from her and she couldn't help and would certainly be next to go.

She had to help him. He had come back to help her. He was the only one. Her protector.

The loudest scream Bulma had ever produced erupted from her mouth and she sat up without any restraints. She lunged towards the end of her bed, where she had heard the fighting, but stopped dead in her tracks.

There was nothing. Her doors were both still closed. There was no blood, no broken furniture and not a single person. She blinked in confusion, and hot tears rolled down her face. What was happening to her? Was she going insane? Did she wish for companionship so much that she was hallucinating Vegeta's presence? But why him? Why not Goku or Gohan? Or even her parents? Her head pounded with a painful headache and she decided to ignore her own thoughts. Bulma left her bed and went to her shower in hopes of scrubbing away the terror.

* * *

Once cleaned, Bulma decided to do her hair and makeup for the first time in weeks. She needed some sort of normalcy to help remedy her early morning trauma. She hesitantly left her bedroom, feeling her heart race and her breathing accelerate with every step in the empty hallway to the stairs leading downstairs. She was still very much afraid, and her house was large and quiet, villains could be hidden anywhere.

Once in the kitchen, she noticed a bright pink page on the kitchen island. Her mother's delicate strokes indicated that her parents would be gone for a week-long vacation. Bulma sighed, half in relief and half in desperation. She was glad her parents were finding ways to enjoy themselves, but she was slightly irked that they didn't think to ask if she wanted to go with them. She could do nothing more than shrug her shoulders and grab a fresh orange from the basket.

As per her usual schedule, she watched the news for a couple of hours until the sound of her doorbell knocked her out of her trance. Her heart sped up instantly and she could feel her face flushing with blood. She was afraid again. She cautiously left her couch, grabbing a large chopping knife and heading to open the door. Making the mental note to add a camera outside of her front door, she slowly opened the door and peeked through the crack. She was greeted by the smiling face of her interior designer. A deep breath was taken, and Bulma greeted short woman allowing her entrance into her home. Bulma discreetly laid the knife in the umbrella basket next to the door.

They exchanged pleasantries and Bulma showed the workers were to bring the large pieces of wood that made up Vegeta's custom bookshelf. Once all the pieces were safely locked in Vegeta's room, Bulma none to gently urged everyone out of her home. Her designer was a bit shocked by her rudeness, but based on Bulma's face she knew that Bulma was a mess and quietly exited Capsule Corp without a fight.

Rejuvenated by the arrival of her newest creation, Bulma decided to make a big pot of coffee. As she waited for her brew, she searched her home for her long forgotten iPod. Finally finding it buried under many magazines in the living room, she was not at all surprised to find it was no longer charged. She decided that no one was home besides her, so she would simply plug it into her speaker and play music while the iPod charged. The smell of expensive coffee filled the air and Bulma happily replied, serving herself a large mug of the steamy liquid.

Armed with coffee and music, Bulma made her way to Vegeta's bedroom. Once again his smell hit her like a brick wall. It was almost as if she was becoming attuned to it. She deposited her coffee and iPod on Vegeta's dresser and quickly darted to her room to get her speakers. She promptly placed her iPod on the dock and turned on her music. Feeling a lot less alone now that there was sound in the house, Bulma grabbed her tools from her lab and promptly went to work assembling the bookshelf.

* * *

Once the bookshelf completed, Bulma couldn't help but feel proud. It was a stunning piece of furniture. With her heart happy, she grabbed an old backpack from her bedroom and headed to the library to fetch some books. Listening to her music on full blast and building something had really lifted her spirit . She combed through the books in the library, picking up the ones Vegeta had read and choosing ones she thought he would enjoy. After filing the backpack and lugging it up the stairs a few too many times, Vegeta's bookshelf was stocked.

'He's going to love this.' she thought happily. Against her will, she also thought 'If he ever comes home.'

Her gloomy mood suddenly returning, Bulma made her way to her lab to start the blueprints for her super gravity room. Her private lab, much like her room, smelled stale. She wrinkled her nose. There was much to do, she thought, but thankfully there wasn't a Saiyan prince breathing down her neck. She had to smirk at the thought. Vegeta would be livid if he knew she had spent so much time on his bookshelf when she could have been working on his prized possession.

Her hands moved flawlessly over the paper, pen in tow. It was like being reacquainted with an old friend. Designs, calculations and the occasional doodle soon filled the edges of her sheet. The information simply flowed out of her like an extension of herself, she poured her soul into this improved gravity room. This was her ultimate apology, the only way she could show Vegeta that she would be more attentive next time. Long nights awake had given her enlightenment. Vegeta had tried to comfort her, and more than once. He had, in his own way, shown her empathy and friendship and she assumed he had ulterior motives.

Vegeta could be manipulative and sadistic, but there were better ways of getting what he wanted than being nice. He most certainly did not have to do that. Bulma desperately wished she had been paying close attention to his actions, and not been so focused on herself. She cursed her natural selfishness. It was her turn to give back to him. She was accepting his dedication to his training and his need to be the strongest by offering him the greatest tools she had.

Hours flowed past her as if they were milliseconds, and the sun had long set when she released her pen with a satisfied sigh. She had truly created an amazing machine, and even if he never said so, Vegeta would certainly be impressed. He had to be.

Massaging her aching wrists one at a time, she rolled her chair over to her computer. The designs complete, she now needed to order the parts for her suped-up gravity simulator. She scrolled through the current Capsule Corp inventory and indicated that any parts that were already stocked in the main lab be brought to her private lab. She then filled an order for everything else, and had it priority shipped.

Suddenly she had nothing to do. All the parts were on their way, so she must wait. A strong yawn hit her. Sleeping was certainly not an option, not after what had happened this morning. She decided perhaps a walk to a coffee shop to get something espresso-based would be a good idea. Bulma walked back to her room, glad she had actually done her hair and makeup. She simply fixed herself, threw on a tight pair of jeans and an off the shoulder sweater. The night was dark, and she imagined cold as well, so she laced up a pair of boots and grabbed her warmest trench coat.

Being careful to lock the door behind her and set the alarm, Bulma exited her home. She wondered how late it really was, as she could only spot one member of the paparazzi outside her home. He was dozing and did not notice as the heiress walked right passed him. Bulma never really wanted to live anywhere but West City. The place suited her. She was a night owl and a quirky one at that, this city matched her schedule and her personality. Her favourite all-night coffee shop was a quick drive away, but she had decided to walk and had not realized how much time it would take her. She tucked her hands into her pockets, hoping to keep them warm, but the sight of her breath in the night air told her it might be a difficult task.

The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood up, and a tremor shot down the heiress's spine. She stopped walking immediately. Her eyes darted around frantically, and when finding nothing, she pivoted to look behind her. Nothing. She strained her ears to pick up on anything. She knew this feeling, it was a peculiar sensation she wouldn't soon forget.

"Vegeta?" her voice tried tentatively, "Vegeta?" she repeated, with more strength.

She listening carefully and stood perfectly still. A small change in the direction of the wind sent her mind a flame, and she took off running in that direction.

"Vegeta!" she screamed into the night. "Wait!"

Her legs forgot that they had spent the better part of the last months sitting on a sofa, and pushed her quickly and efficiently. She could hear her pulse in her ears and her adrenaline made the night seem not nearly as mysterious. She ran down the street, past many shops and the occasional pedestrian. Where was he? He had to be there. He had to be. She hadn't realized how far she had run until she passed Capsule Corp. But Vegeta had not stopped, and neither would she.

A quick blast of winter wind a few seconds later shattered her resolve, made Bulma collapse to her knees. She had lost him. She couldn't keep going. She leaned forward and her hands connect with the freezing cement of the sidewalk. Tears streamed down her face.

"Vegeta, where are you?" she whispered to herself.

A loud sob erupted from her mouth, and her whole body shook with agony.

One last time, she screamed Vegeta's name into the darkness, begging him to come home to her.

* * *

A/N: We are nearing the cusp of this story, my friends. I decided to omit one of the Bulma only chapters, so next chapter Vegeta will return! Also, for those who have been and are still begging for Vegeta to put Yamcha in his place, that will finally happen in a couple of chapters.

Have you had an experience similar to Bulma's at the beginning of the chapter? It's a condition called sleep paralysis, and it actually fairly common. If you find that you experience it often, I would suggest speaking with your physician about it. Sleep paralysis can be caused by sleeping irregular hours, pulling an all nighter and/or general stressful life events.

I thought the story would be done soon, only about 3-4 chapters left, but I think I may revise the story line and add in a couple of extra chapters, as there are a few more things that I would like to explore with this story.

Until next time!

Kindly leave a review :)


End file.
